Kadavo to Naboo
by ii Digestive Reader ii
Summary: When Obi-Wan receives a mission to save the Chancellor, he must make a choice. But while he focuses on himself and his dilemmas, Anakin has his own problems. The sequel to "Secrets of the Negotiater."
1. Black Out

Chapter One: Black Out

**Warning**: themes of sexual abuse, rape, and child loss will be prevelent in this story.

* * *

"You two look horrible," Anakin murmured once they were in the emergency transport and flying to safety. If he focused, he could still feel the agony of the Togruta colonists, the fear in the mines, the relief that they were rescued, the terror of being captured yet again by the Separatists…

So he ignored all that, and focused on the two shipwrecks collapsing to the floor and grinning with inflamed gums and dirty beards. Every trooper was quiet, probably out of shock.

"All in a day's work sir," Rex answered, accepting a canteen of water from a trooper. "Thanks vod."

"Surprised the Zygerrian didn't kill you - I would have."

"Ah Wolffe - nice to see you."

Anakin cracked a smile, though he was staring at his master. The man looked horrible - ashen face, dirty tunics - really, why the fuck did he stop wearing armor? Truthfully, the Zygerrians probably would have stripped him of it but still...he wondered if Obi-Wan still had his prized knife that Satine had given him years ago, or it was somewhere on _The Negotiator _or even at the Temple.

Commander Wolffe chuckled, looking to Anakin. "They're okay."

"Yeah…" Anakin knelt beside him, wiggling a glove off and pressing a hand to Obi-Wan's brow. He had a vague memory of Obi-Wan doing this to himself as a kid - and a more vivid one of doing it to Padme when she pushed herself too hard. "You're burning up."

"I'm fine, Ana - "

"My wife is disabled, Obi-Wan," Anakin murmured quietly, just low enough for Obi-Wan to hear and Obi-Wan to hear only. It wasn't public knowledge, and he be damned if anyone found out _now_. "I know when someone is not feeling good and trying to hide it."

Obi-Wan looked at him, then brushed the hand away. "I'm fine."

Anakin gave a rough snort, and sat cross-legged on the hard floor. At least he was physically okay - Padme would probably yell at him if he came home with yet another broken bone.

"_There's only room for one sick person in this house, _Padme had snapped once before he took her in his arms and swung her around until she laughed.

_Fine physically._

If he thought about it too much, the Queen's nails could be felt scraping down his -

"Wolffe," Anakin asked, looking upwards at the clone veteran. "We nearly there?"

"You have a comlink."

Anakin rolled his eyes, listening to Rex chuckle before giving a hacking cough. He glanced at Obi-Wan, whose eyes were closed. Tapping his wrist-comm, he asked: "We there yet?"

* * *

It wasn't long before the emergency transport settled onto the cruiser. Anakin helped Obi-Wan stand, though the damn man brushed away the offer to be guided to medical.

"We should see Ahsoka's people off."

Rex nodded his agreement, rising with the help of Wolffe.

_Seriously. Those two together share a brain cell. _

The doors whooshed open, and the Governor and Plo were waiting for them, Ahsoka and R2 by their sides.

No one spoke despite the chatter in the hangar. Anakin felt his shoulders relax a tad at the familiar chatter and fumes and clanks of a hangar. Droids beeping, people shouting in several languages, at least one fire being extinguished somewhere.

"What took you so long Skywalker?" Plo murmured, putting his hands behind his back "We've been for hours."

"Convincing and failing Obi-Wan to head to the medbay." Anakin stepped out of the transport, letting the clones file out, still bearing most of Obi-Wan's weight for him.

"You failed."

"I'm fine," Obi-Wan muttered while he gently pushed Anakin away. Even with his mental shields up it was entirely too easy to spot his exhaustion. "I will rest once we have seen the good governor off."

"Is that so?" Plo asked, beginning to lead their group to the shuttles that would take the colonists home.

"I thank you, the Jedi, and the Republic for saving our lives," the governor replied in his creaky voice.

"Ahsoka is the real hero," Anakin answered. _What the hell is his name?_ "Without her creativity, I don't think we would've gotten your people to safety."

"Indeed. Padawan Tano, might I have a word in private?"

Ahsoka glanced to Anakin, who shrugged. She smiled, and stepped away from their little group. "Of course."

Plo gestured to a few paces away, leaving Obi-Wan and then Anakin to follow.

"A fine job, Master Kenobi - though a bit dramatic."

"All in a day's work, Master Plo."

"A likely story, but not a realistic one."

"Pardon?"

"You've been gone eight days Obi-Wan," Anakin tried to smile, though it wore thin. This mission...he felt so...old. Disgusting. He really wanted a shower. "You had everyone pretty worried."

"I believe even the Chancellor was concerned," Plo murmured wryly.

Anakin glanced at Obi-Wan, who looked even paler than he did five seconds ago. "Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan, you okay?" He put a hand on his shoulder.

Obi-Wan glanced at him, eyes a little glazed. "Mmm - oh fine fine."

"Wha - Obi-Wan!"

He didn't even have time to do anything - Obi-Wan had passed out cold on the hanger floor.

"Oh my," Plo kneeled down, hands fluttering, not sure what to do.

Anakin was there, checking for a pulse and grimacing when he felt it weak and fast. Not bad, not good. Someone must have pulled the medical alarm - the lights were flashing, the sound screeching in his ears, Cody and the higher-ranking officers of the Third Systems army were pushing everyone back, creating space, creating a path for the medical team.

"Should we move him into a recovery position?" Plo asked quietly.

"No - he could have a spinal injury. Obi-Wan," he tapped a finger against Obi-Wan's cheek, granted with a involuntary grimace. He breathed a sigh of relief, though this close he could _definitely _sense the pain Obi-Wan was in, the sheer agony. Dozens of fractures all over his body, muscle tears, inflammation…

All unfiltered, and the lights weren't helping. Neither was Ahsoka's worried voice in the background, people shouting -

Those damn lights.

'_General Skywalker - why so chaste? Surely a man of your stature would attract dozens of admirers? _

Anakin shut his eyes, feeling a crackling behind his ear. _His epilepsy implant...it must have been fried..._

"Sir." It was Kix, putting a hand on his shoulder. "We have him - come on, you need an exam."

He cracked his eyes open, watching Obi-Wan be gently eased onto a hard-board and then a stretcher. "Kix...I need a suppressant. Now or - "

Kix understood, taking a package from his belt and taking out a syringe. The medical team hurried away, barking out orders.

A sharp pinch to the neck, and Anakin breathed a little easier. A little. Not much.

"Obi-Wan?" he croaked, well aware Kix would have his hide if he moved from sitting on the floor before a botched exam was completed.

* * *

"So you really want to know the verdict sir?"

Anakin gave a noise of discontent while he walked into the exam room, leaning against the exam table. It was dark in the room, save for the light of the x-ray machine. It had been fourteen and a half hours, and Obi-Wan had just been brought out of surgery. "Do I Helix?"

Kix snickered, putting the numerous x-rays onto the screens. He had been dragged into surgery about halfway through it, taking over for one of the exhausted doctors. "This is probably the most impressive hit Kenobi has ever taken - Helix, start with the left arm."

"Dislocated left shoulder with a tear of the deltoid muscle - we did surgery to correct that. Complete break of the humerus. Seven of the eight carpals in the wrist are fractured. Three of the metacarpals out of five fractured, with the phalanges being a mix of bones."

Kix shifted to the right arm. "The right arm is better - only partial fracture of the humerus, one carpal and metacarpal fracture, and bruising and mild fractures with the phalanges."

"Good thing he's ambidextrous," Anakin muttered while massaging a spot between his cybernetic arm and his flesh. His own health was precarious at the moment - nothing was broken, but the cruiser wasn't equipped to deal with things like epilepsy and mental assessments. _As usual._ "You set all those?"

"Set, split, did surgery when we could - we're being careful where we put the boneknitters, just because there's so many broken bones." Kix looked grim while he shifted to the chest. "Both clavicles fractured - left worse than the right. Ribs took a bad beating - breaks, fractures, lungs bruised - it's a miracle nothing pierced a lung, though the right was close to collapsing."

Anakin glanced over to the doors when they whooshed open, trying to offer a smile to Ahsoka. She hopped onto the exam table, making herself small. Without a word he put a hand briefly on her shoulder, not reacting much when she leaned into his side and closed her eyes. He wondered when she last slept.

Helix sighed while he continued to speak. "The General has a pretty nasty concussion - probably due to trauma and severe dehydration. Any more and his brain would have become inflamed. There's a compression of two spinal discs too, and a muscle tears bear his spine."

Kix changed the x-rays. "We had to treat and sew the gashes on his back - so were so infected they were green and appearing to gather maggots -"

Ahsoka grimaced, putting her head between her legs and taking in a shaky breath.

"What else?" Anakin asked wearily, rubbing at Ahsoka's back. She was just bone beneath her sweatshirt.

"Pelvis dislocated, muscle tears - not too bad. We had to pop the femur head back into socket on both sides." Helix grimaced. "Both kneecaps were out of place, with the right one shattered - we had to replace it and reconstruct the tendons."

"The rest isn't too bad," Kix continued, "just some mild fractures, partial breaks, and a few full breaks in both feet. Those should heal pretty quick - there are a few muscle tears and some tendons we'd like to keep an eye on, but overall - full recovery."

Anakin snorted, rubbing a hand over his face and realizing he sorely needed a shave. He knew his wife would tease him relentlessly about his scruffiness. "Full recovery…"

"Yes but…" Helix sighed, then glanced at his brothers before speaking. "This isn't necessarily related to the Kadavo stint but - his liver is not doing well. If he doesn't reverse the damage - "

"Caused by alcohol?"

"Among other things - but yes. He'll need a new one if he keeps up like this or there's a slim chance he'll make it to forty."

"A new one shouldn't be a problem right?" Ahsoka asked in a small voice. "We live on Coruscant."

"True - but he'd be living on borrowed time. Five, ten years - fifteen max.

Sighing, Anakin stared at the x-rays before looking at the medics. "Good luck convincing Obi-Wan to stop drinking."

"Someone will have to, or you won't have Obi-Wan Kenobi around by the time you're fifty."

Anakin nodded, rubbing at his arm again. Studying the x-rays, he realized -

"Has anyone -"

Kix cracked a smile, understanding instantly. "Oh - _you're _doing that task sir."

* * *

"Satine - "

"_What did he do now? He's been silent for weeks."_

Anakin managed a smile, looking at the Mandalorian Duchess. It was a little surreal, even after all these months, comming her when something went wrong. He filled her in, watching her face shift from vague amusement to horror.

"_...you've - my God, how is he alive?"_

"No idea - Satine - he needs intensive care our cruiser cannot support... we're not sure if he'll make it without it, despite his surgery."

Satine sobered a little, wiping the tears from her face. "_You want to use the medical station on the edge of Mandalorian space -"_

"It's a Neutral Medical Station - "

"...of course. I'll tell my men to stand down - "

"_I suspect they know, Anakin - I'm telling you."_

Anakin opened his mouth, then sighed and nodded. There was never any point in arguing with her. "Right."

Silence. He could hear the radio playing the show tunes in the background. _The Greatest Showman, _or something like that. He hadn't been able to watch or even listen to any of the latest musicals or adaptations lately.

"_When will you be docking?"_

"Umm - " he glanced at the clock on the wall. "Eight hours."

"_I can be there in ten hours - "_

"Satine, he's in pretty rough shape. I don't know - "

"_Anakin he's my riddur - I will be there."_

* * *

Sleep didn't come once they were on the Neutral Systems Medical Station. He didn't even want it to. He stayed in his office, filing flimsiwork slowly, carefully trying to give updates, trying to condense weeks of -

A pager bleeped. Anakin rubbed at his neck, eyes watering while he glanced at it.

_Me-Me: :)_

Anakin smiled, reaching out and taking it in his hand. Muscles screamed at him, and he stood, trying to work things out. It was a system they had worked out - if she heard a rumor he and the fleet was safe, she would message a smiley face and he would message back -

_Ani: :D_

_Safe._

His standing projector shrilled, and someone from command came into focus.

"_Sir?" _

Anakin put the pager on the desk, and glanced at the projector. "A ship coming in?"

"_Yes sir - I contacted Captain Rex, he'll meet you in the hangar to welcome Duchess Kryze."_

* * *

"Ahsoka sleeping?"

Anakin glanced at his clone captain before shaking his head and turning back to the hangar entrance. He had felt rather exposed in the hangar - too many Separatists, too many Neutralists, too many people from factions he barely even knew about. "I don't think any of us are Rex."

"The mines...I think I actually envy General Kenobi."

He snorted, well aware the captain was chuckling. It was nice, to joke around again - at least until…

"Sir...I didn't what you meant about growing up a slave until - "

"Most people don't - General Secura does. That's about it...some might say the clone army are slaves."

"Most don't want to admit it." Rex stared straight ahead, watching at the far end of the hangar, where the doors were opening for a ship. "Do you believe that's our esteemed duchess?"

"I believe it is."

An old blue shuttle came in carefully, like the person who was piloting it hadn't used a ship in a few...years.

Satine was piloting, her tense face focused on landing. There was no one on the shuttle with her - she had come alone, without an escort.

_How did she manage that?_

"The General picked a good one," Rex murmured.

Anakin nodded in agreement, wondering if Obi-Wan realized how incredibly obvious his relationship was...unless he didn't care.

The latter was probably more likely, considering Satine was stepping down the ramp wrapped in a hemmed Jedi cloak, her hair bound in a simple braid over one shoulder.

"Duchess," Rex muttered, nodding his head.

"Captain - Anakin." Satine cut an imposing figure, true, though that didn't stop her from giving Anakin an embrace when she was close enough. She always smelled of citrus. "How bad is he?"

_But her Force presence...oh my God, Obi-Wan what the hell did you do?_

Anakin managed a smile, offering his arm to her. "He's doing okay now - just unconscious. We had to handcuff him to the bed when the anesthesia wore off the first time and he tried to stand."

Satine gave a strained laugh while slipping her hand in the crook of his elbow. "Obi-Wan just cannot sit still," she murmured while they walked. "Is he allowed visitors?"

"Kix said no - Helix and Jon say yes," Rex folded his hands behind his back. "I'll keep Kix occupied m'lady."

"Thank you - any idea when he'll wake?"

Anakin sighed, palming the door open and entering a hallway. He was quiet while they passed a king that had declared himself Separatist some time ago, only exchanging brief nods.

This was a place of recovery, not battle.

"No. But he's showing signs of healing - that's all that matters."

* * *

_Author's note: Hello there my dears. As you have gathered, the next bit of the "Secrets" universe begins a few weeks in the past, largely from Anakin's pov. It will catch up, don't worry ;)_

_This chapter begins just after Kadavo, and will continue to just after the Hardeen arc (:_

_It will be much tears and angst and a higher rating and yay, I'm excited. _

_ii Digestive Reader ii_


	2. Chain of Command

Chapter Two: Chain of Command

* * *

"_...to much to handle, it is. Agree, I do not. To someone different, command should - "_

"Who?" Anakin snapped, wincing immediately upon the glowering look the hologram of the Grand Master gave him. Rolling his shoulders, he glanced to his right. "Master Plo - you're quiet. Back me up here."

Plo Koon gave a lengthy sigh, scanning the holograms of the Council members around them. Folding his arms over his chest, he gave one his famous slow, deliberate shrugs. "Young Skywalker is correct, despite his apparent rudeness."

Adi Gallia leaned over and muttered something to Shaak Ti, who did her best to muffle a snort.

"_You believe he should take command of the Third Systems Army while Obi-Wan recovers?" _Mace leaned forward, his eyes narrowing. "_Obi-Wan could be out of a commision for longer than a month."_

"Think of it as a trial to prepare me for becoming a Master Jedi," Anakin offered cheerfully. No one needed to know the real reason he wanted to take control of the Third Systems Army. To help Obi-Wan out, yes, but he could be closer to Coruscant, which meant closer to Padmé.

"_That's a terrifying thought," _Mace muttered. "_You a master?"_

Anakin refrained from rolling his eyes, and looked to Kit Fisto and Ki-Adi-Mundi. He knew they would vouch for him - as would Adi Gallia and Shaak Ti and Plo Koon. That was five of them, and with Obi-Wan unconscious two levels above and four doors down….

"_A trial this is for you, Anakin Skywalker. Prove, you must, your desire to be a Master."_

Mace nearly looked pleased - nearly. "_Perhaps we will consider an appointment of rank when this is all over."_

"Of course, Masters." Anakin bowed, trying to keep the stupid grin on his face to a small, humble smile. He didn't bother with his emotions though - they were bubbling, and when the transmission cut Plo clapped him on the shoulder.

"Well done, Ken. Obi-Wan will be proud."

Rex had been standing in the corner of the transmission room and flicked on the lights. "Congrats General - you get to boss Cody around."

Anakin had to laugh - the Marshal Commander enjoyed the fact that he outranked most of the Order. But something was bugging him…

_Obi-Wan could be out of a commision for longer than a month..._

That didn't sound good. But Obi-Wan _was_ really sick and beaten...that's probably all it meant.

Yeah, that's all it meant. Definitely. Without a doubt. Yep.

"...on young Kenobi's state?"

Rex was finishing shutting down the holoprojector and wiping the memory - there were Separatist on this station, after all. He glanced over at the conversation at hand, probably just as curious.

Anakin shrugged, walking to the door to avoid looking at either of them. "You know Obi-Wan - he's taking his sweet time coming to consciousness."

"Well he certainly has pleasant company," Plo drawled while the three of them walked through the doors and into the hallway. It was surreal, watching Separatist and Republic and Neutralists and every other faction flit the halls and scurry around each other - or not. People still had friends among other factions, even if they were at war.

Padmé still had friends among the Separatists. He didn't understand that.

"...will be taking my fleet back to our destination - and Anakin, you will be sending your fleet back to Coruscant?"

Why they were discussing this in an open corridor Anakin had no idea, but regardless he nodded. Fleet meant...holy shit, that meant the Third Systems Army. He swallowed, the weight of such a responsibility and _so many lives _settling onto his shoulders.

"Yeah...I'll comm Cody, have him meet me on _The Negotiator."_

Plo tilted his head, coming to a slow stop and putting a clawed hand on Anakin's shoulder. "Afraid to ask for assistance, you should not Anakin - but between us - perhaps not ask Master Windu?"

Anakin frowned a moment before realizing the much older master was serious despite his casual tone.

* * *

"My Lady I have to speak to you."

Satine glanced upwards, looking at the clone commander before her. It was a little surreal, looking at one of the several billion men whom had the face of Jango Fett. Shoving down her distaste at the original man - he was dead anyways - she dropped her fingers from the keyboard of the datapad and forced a smile. "Commander Cody - what can I do for you?"

Commander Cody - dressed in his civilian clothes of khaki pants and a black long sleeve - didn't relax when he stepped into Obi-Wan's medical suite. He was stiff while he tucked his hands behind his back, glancing at the still and emaciated figure of Obi-Wan Kenobi on the bed.

"Ben speaks fondly of you - not many are willing to follow the nerf-herder and his hair-brained schemes around the galaxy."

He looked at her, her cool, piercing expression. It was hard to tell if she was amused or annoyed. For a Mandalorian she was unnaturally pale and thin and blonde, but the stereotypical bluntness appeared to be there.

"I'm just doing my duty, madame - it's my duty to remain faithful and - "

Satine gave a hard snort, having to cover her mouth to stifle herself. Wisps of hair from in front of her face, and it was odd to look at her and realize that she was growing out her bangs. It looked rather...nice.

"Duchess - "

Shaking her head, Satine glanced upwards and gave a smile that some might have called intimating. She looked oddly comfortable in her seat beside the General's bed. "Obi-Wan is many things, Marshal Commander, but faithful is not one of them."

"...Duchess…" Cody grimaced while she raised her eyebrows and leaned back in her sight, waiting for him to finish. He scratched at the stubble that had just been bothering him all morning before sighing. "You know?"

"That you slept with my partner during the Siege of Umbara? It was rather obvious."

Cody shook his head, not wanting to look her in the eye. He didn't know what to say - what could you say, when you were the man who slept with the partner of the most powerful Mandalorian in the Galaxy?

"Obi-Wan tends to be rather - ah - overly affectionate when he has done something I might disapprove of. Besides," Satine gave a small shrug, "I have never asked him to stay faithful to me - only that he comes back to my bed."

"How do you know he will?" Cody asked before he stopped himself.

Satine raised her thin eyebrows, looking either amused or a tad insulted - it was hard to tell the difference. "He is risking his career and his command to come to beside me - and he risks what with you?"

Cody knew he should have been insulted. He knew he should. Yes, he had joined the General in bed more than once, and yes, he cared for the General greatly - perhaps a little too much. But at the end of the day...Marshal Commander CC-2224 was just a number.

And for some reason, that distinction made him calmer. He didn't have the responsibility of a relationship, the commitment, the worry, the stress.

The ah - _other things._

Titling his head upwards, he smiled at the Duchess. "Your point is valid and true, Your Grace." Cody glanced at his wrist-comm when it chirped, and made to rise. "Oh - congratulations, by the way."

Satine frowned at him. "For beginning the negotiations between the Republic and the Confederacy?"

He blinked, not daring to cast his eyes downward. "...yeah. That's next week correct? Hell, it'll be nice to not be shot at every day."

It was a loaded statement - they both knew it. If a peace treaty was signed...well, the Confederacy droids could be destroyed - but the clones? No one had a bloody idea what to do with them.

"It's time for a change, yes. This war has gone on long enough."

Satine frowned while the commander bowed and walked out of the room, answering his wrist-comm. Staring at the datapad in her lap, she shook her head and put the on the nightstand. The steady beep of the machines keeping Obi-Wan alive reached her ears, filling her senses, trying to drown out her worry and confusion and -

She swallowed, feeling a bit of acid reflux creep upwards. God, why had that been happening?

_Lack of sleep, anxiety, not eating, preparing for the negotiations, worry, stress, nope, not that, not that, everything is - _

Wrapping the fleece around her tighter, she studied her partner's face. It had been a shock receiving that message message from Anakin, and even more of a shock to witness Obi-Wan - usually so quick and charming, to be lying unconscious. The surgeons and medics had not dared to put him in a bacta tank - it was too risky, with all the injuries he'd sustained. Easier to do it the old-fashioned way, and use the tank as a last resort.

She'd been traveling to the medical station every other day from Kalevala hoping that one of these days Obi-Wan would be awake.

It had been five days and…

He was so bandaged, with one wrist handcuffed to the bed because he had tried to walk shortly after surgery. Oxygen under his nose, an IV in him, wires stuck to various parts of him…

She closed her eyes a moment, then reached for the datapad again.

A hand reached out, touching her knee. She stared at it, hearing her name faintly, wondering if she was hallucinating.

Satine glanced at his face, unable to keep the tears at bay. "You're awake."

"Yeah...I…" He scared his eyebrows together, staring at the ceiling in concentration. "...okay?"

"I'm okay," she whispered, setting the datapad aside and leaning forward. She combed her fingers through his hair, watching his eyes flutter closed for a second. "You scared all of us pretty bad."

"Yeah...sorry...why am...here?"

Satine raised her eyebrows. _The concussion must be pretty bad. _"Kadavo? You tried to hide your injuries and passed out on Anakin and Master Koon - they had to rush you here because their cruisers weren't able to handle the extent of your injuries."

A vacant smile crossed his lips. "Yeah?"

"Should I tell the medics you're awake? You've been showing sign of waking for two hours - I suspect they'll be around soon enough."

"They can...wait." He opened his mouth to say more, then grimaced.

"Brain fog should wear off as you heal - your medical staff says it's a result of a concussion and dehydration."

"...yeah?"

"You're an idiot," Satine whispered, smoothing his hair and smiling while she saw a few strands of gray hair in it.

He tried to snort, to play their game of teasing - but he wound up coughing harshly. He closed his eyes, head tilted into her touch. "My...my lungs hurt."

She tried to smile. It was painful, to watch him be in so out of it. "Not surprised."

"All of me...hurts."

Satine glanced away from his tense expression before sitting on the bed carefully.

"Tina - "

"You scared me half to death Obi - I thought you were dead."

"...they...words...the Zygerrians…"

"They broadcasted it, yes." Satine had to smile when he reached his hand upwards and brushed her cheek. Despite being drugged on morphine and probably a dozen other things he was still himself.

Obi-Wan sighed, brushing at her tears. "I'm okay - I'm alive."

"I - Ben…" Satine shook her head when he gestured to the bed, and oh so carefully laid down on the bed, squeezing herself close to him, trying not to put too much of her weight on him.

He pressed a kiss to her temple, rough whiskers against her skin while he wrapped the less injured arm around her. "I'm okay."

"Don't why why I'm so upset," Satine muttered, feeling her eyes water again. "You always do reckless shit."

"Hey now...love you."

"Love you more."

* * *

_Author's note: well hello there._

_Anakin has command of the Third Systems Army huh? Well, this should be interesting._

_On an unrelated note - I created a Ko fi_

_I would appreciate it if even one of you copy and pasted the link and helped out. It would mean so, so much. For every standard donation of $3 I am willing to write 300 words of fic - but only if you specify if you want something written and what you would like. So if you donate $6 - 600 words. $9 - 900 words. Of course I'll publish these on and Tumblr, but you will be the muse dearies._

_Please remember that I am very uncomfortable writing explicit content like bondage, rape, dark whump, etc. Please be considerate when choosing your topics. I will try to cater to your muse, but I am under no obligation to comply completely or at all._

_Link: /iidigestivereaderii_

_Enjoy and thank you for helping me out :)_

_ii Digestive Reader ii_


	3. Cruiser Manifest

Chapter Three: Cruiser Manifest

* * *

_Mé-Mé: Im leaving for Mandalore today_

_Ani: the negotiations aren't for another few days?_

_Mé-Mé: Well a Senator must pay her respects to the new leader of the Third Systems Army - and visit the wounded on the Medical station of course_

_Ani: :) Don't push yourself too hard_

_Mé-Mé: I'll be fine Ani - it's just flying._

_Ani: mmm hmm_

_Mé-Mé: Could the Great General Skywalker leave his cruiser to escort me around the medical station when I arrive?_

* * *

_Cruiser Manifest_

_Flahship:_ Venator-_class Star Destroyer_,_ "The Negotiator"_

_Manufacturer: Kuat Drive Yards_

_Crew: 7,400_

_Army: Grand Army of the Republic_

_Army Subsection: Third Systems Army_

_Fleet: 7th Sky Corps_

_Jedi Command: (If Applicable): High General Obi-Wan Kenobi of Stew-Jon_

_Clone Commander: Marshal Commander CC-2224, "Cody"_

_Admiral__: N/A (See General Skywalker's Report of Zygerria)_

_Stardate: N/A_

_General Anakin Skywalker, following the events of Zygerria and Kadavo, to take command of The Negotiator and the Third Systems Army until General Obi-Wan Kenobi is able to retake command._

_General Skywalker has sent primary cruisers - The Negotiator and The Malevolence - to Coruscant for repair and resupply. Most crew and soldiers to take 2 or 4 week shore leave._

_Notes: General Quinlan Vos, to report from undercover mission in 2 days time and..._

* * *

Anakin typed until he felt his eyes glaze over, and only stopped when a tingle went through his neck. He winced, stilling his fingers and trying to take a deep breath.

The tingling became sharper, like needles, spreading through his neck and into his skull and down his arm.

A harsh breath left him - there was no stopping this seizure.

He read over the last lines he'd written. Trying to keep himself focused while the electric feeling spread.

_General Skywalker and his padawan Commander Ahsoka Tano to stay at the Medical Station until two days after the arrival of Senator Amidala, who is to visit the station before departing to Sundari, Kalelava. She will be escorted by Ahsoka Tano, and will attend the Peace Talks between -_

The lights went white. Blood roared in his ears. The distant sounds of the Medical station - engines whirring, people chattering, everyone -

His fingers were tapping involuntarily. Jaw clenched. Everything smelled of plantains - why did everything always smell like plantains during seizures?

Black dots danced at the edges of his peripheral vision.

...

Was someone yelling his name? Putting a hand on his shoulder -

* * *

When the seizure faded, Anakin groggily came to and found himself on the floor of the Republic Office of the Neutral Medical Station -

With Captain Rex leaning against the wall, typing at a messenger.

"Rex?" Anakin muttered hoarsely, rising from the recovery position and grimacing.

Rex glanced at him, cracking a smile. "Came to ask you if you wanted to eat with Cody and I - found you heading into a seizure."

"Ah." Anakin rubbed at a lump on his head, gingerly using the wall as support while he rose into a sitting position.

"If you don't mind me asking -"

"Medical stations don't do epilepsy procedures - and the cruisers only have suppressants."

"Damn."

Anakin allowed his captain to help him stand, keeping a hand against the wall. He avoided looking out the window - it would make his stomach lurch otherwise, watching the station spin slowly.

A comlink beeped, the sound piercing his skull. Rex answered, his back straightening immediately, his voice clipped, professional, angling himself so Anakin wasn't visible to the caller.

He ignored the conversation, trying to focus. On instinct, he reached out for Obi-Wan - the response was a dull, but quick pulse back.

_He must be asleep._

"We'll be there in twenty - thank you."

"What was that about?" Anakin muttered, scanning the desk for a bottle of suppressants out of habit - anything to help the pain and exhaustion he was feeling. Even a small dose of morphine would do. Fighting on the front lines was one thing - experiencing a different type of seizure than usual was another.

Rex raised his eyebrows. "That was Captain Typho - the Senator's ship is coming in. I told him we'd meet him in the hangar."

Anakin massaged his brow. Of _course _his wife would come _now. _It wasn't like she had never seen him after a seizure - but to worry about him was _not _something she needed to do, not when her health was so fragile and she needed to focus on the negotiations.

* * *

Captain Typho let his shoulders relax when the shields lowered, glancing back at his companions.

Dormé was knitting, her face tight with concentration. She would stash it away into one of her many pockets when they landed, but for now it was out. It looked like a blanket - probably for Master Kenobi. There _was _a tradition on Naboo to give married couples quilts on their wedding day - perhaps his mistress had decided to tease her famous friends about their not-so-subtle romance.

Speaking of his mistress…

Padmé was curled in her seat, eyes closed and skin paler than usual. It was a little known fact that one could tell how she was faring by how complex her clothing was that day. Well, it wasn't a good day. She wore a pair of leggings underneath a flowing green tunic that was tight on her arms. Ringlets escaped from a plait down her back, and the fingers that rested on her lap had braces on them cleverly disguised as layers of rings.

Fourteen-hour flights were a drain on anybody, but on her…

"_Landing to commence, Captain - whenever you're ready."_

Gregor turned back around, hands flitting to the controls. "Copy that."

The descent to the landing platform was smooth. He landed easily, shaking his head upon spotting the General and his captain waiting for them. It was a busy little hangar, he noted while the engines cut - people were scurrying about, ships were leaving and taking off, shouting could be heard from within their little cockpit.

A little crowd would probably form around the ship - he'd have to ask Anakin for a protection detail around it.

Gregor stood, rolling his shoulders and listening to his joints pop. He turned about, forcing a smile upon watching Padmé straighten slowly and open her eyes. "I'll lower the ramp."

Padmé tried to nod. She was quick to follow once she was on her feet, though to the untrained eye her movements were pained and stiff. The ramp clunked down, and she squared her shoulders with only a mild grimace before stepping down the ramp.

"Think she'll be okay?" Gregor muttered to Dormé, whom had neatly packed her knitting away and was carrying the two suitcases that they had brought.

"She will be fine," Padmé hissed before -

"General Skywalker - Captain Rex."

"Ma'am." Rex inclined his head, the hint of a smile on his face. Out of all the Senators, she always made an effort to acknowledge the clones.

"Senator," Anakin murmured, bowing his head while she came closer. "Welcome aboard _The Negotiator _\- I trust your flight was pleasant?"

"As well as a fourteen-hour flight can be."

Behind her, Gregor caught Anakin's eye and shook his head a little. He looked around the hangar, glad to see a cluster of clone troopers was coming toward the ship - they knew the drill. Good.

Captain Rex folded his arms behind behind his back. "Your rooms are on the same floor as ours - the Republic only has one floor here at the medical station - fifteen bedrooms."

"More than enough," Dormé murmuered. "Mistress - I will retire."

"Of course - General Skywalker." Padmé glanced to her husband, a smile gracing her face. "Do you mind escorting me to the infirmary? I do wish to visit Master Kenobi and Padawan Tano."

Anakin smiled, a true smile that he rarely bestowed on anyone, and offered his arm to his wife. She took it - leaning a little heavily, a little close - and they swept through the hangar.

* * *

"Mé - "

Padmé ignored him while they stepped into a lesser used corridor, glancing down the hall before she reached her hands upwards. Usually her husband stood still while she scrutinized his face for scars - but today he took her hands, holding her knuckles to his lips and kissing each carefully. There was a soft scratch of stubble against her skin. She studied the pain in his eyes, the exhaustion, the worry.

He stood like he had the entire galaxy on his shoulders.

Or...an entire army.

"Should I call you high general now?"

"Padmé…" Anakin blinked a few times, then let her hands fall and grasp his forearms gently. He stared at the floor, then shook his head and managed a smile at her. "How are you feeling? You're wearing your finger braces."

"Nothing different than usual." It was true - well, her heart was pounding in her throat, and she felt woozy, and her stomach was churning - but that was a result of the flying. A nap and a cup of tea would probably ease things. Her joints were aching of course and she had a dull headache - but when didn't she always have those symptoms? "The joints were popping out of socket - I just needed some extra support, nothing more - what happened on Zygerria? The 'net - "

"_Padmé." _He jerked away like he'd been burned, wincing hard. But it wasn't anger - well, it was always anger with Anakin when he was upset. For a moment, a long moment - a feral animal stared at her, breathing hard, tears glistening in his eyes.

_Obi-Wan was right… _The invalid general had messaged her some hours ago, explaining his suspicions about what happened to Anakin, sending the report that Anakin had written about _his _time with the Zygerrian queen and -

It wasn't pretty.

Then it was over, and Anakin was rubbing at his neck - well, the spot where -

"Oh my God, your implant -"

"It fried, I'm fine - there are suppressants - "

"Anakin - "

"I'll get it taken care of - "

"With what money - we're - "

"You want to fight about this now?"

Padmé gave a sigh, watching her husband glare down the hallway and run a hand through his hair. She shook her head and turned on her heel. "Well _I'm _going to visit Obi-Wan - if you're gonna sulk I don't need your - "

A rough glove closed around her wrist. Anakin stepped forward, cupping her face and kissing her gently. He pulled away after a moment, leaning their brows together. "Sorry," he muttered, brushing a thumb over her cheekbone.

* * *

_Author's note: well hello_

_I apologize for the long delay in updating, but hey! I updated! Yay!_

_As y'all know - writing chapters from Anakin or Padmé's pov makes my head hurt. I hope I did well. _

_Enjoy :)_

_ii Digestive Reader ii_


	4. It's Preeminent

Chapter Four: It's Preeminent

* * *

"Liver failure huh?"

"It preeminent sir - it's not a question of if anymore - it's when. It will happen if you keep drinking and consuming the amount of drugs you have been."

Satine glanced a moment at Anakin, who was staring daggers at Obi-Wan. She couldn't say she was surprised that this would happen to her riddur - but...well, she anticipated it would happen maybe, say, twenty years down the line, once he was out of the Order and she had given the throne to Korkie and maybe life was a little more stable and less shitty.

_Of course, we'd be nearing our sixties...and Obi-Wan probably - I wonder if he will convince me by then too -_

Obi-Wan was sighing, scratching at his chin and looking far older than he actually was. "Fine. Say you're right Helix - "

"I am - "

"I stop drinking - that doesn't mean I won't have liver failure down the line."

"True," Helix crossed his arms, "but the liver begins to regenerate pretty quickly - two weeks, if surgery is involved. A few months if you're doing it naturally. Your chances of living to forty increase pretty dramatically."

"Forty?" Obi-Wan whispered, widening his eyes.

Satine - sitting beside his bed - put her head in her hands, heel pressing into her brow. Tears threatened to fall. _Damn it. Damn it damn it damn it._

Footsteps echoed on the floor, becoming fainter with each step. By the time Satine had stood and walked to the window, shawl pulled around herself - Helix was gone.

Three years...three years.

_Would the war be over in three years?_

_Three years…_

Obi-Wan cleared his throat. "Doctors can be wrong - "

Through the glass, she watched Anakin glare. She wondered if in another reality, that glare combusted Anakin on the spot.

"Doctors can be wrong," Anakin started slowly. "You forget I have spent half my marriage in a hospital room, listening to doctors that keep my wife alive."

"Anakin - " Obi-Wan sighed when Anakin stalked out of the room, his cloak snapping behind him.

"You're not going to say anything?"

Satine scoffed. "What do you want me to say? We'll just wind up arguing and I've been told not to raise your heart rate."

"How kind of you." He tapped his fingers against the bed, then closed his eyes. "How's Ahsoka doing? Rex?"

"The Clone Captain? No idea." Satine gave a small laugh - it sounded a little hysterical. "Ahsoka is essentially traumatized - Anakin too. Don't think either of them have slept."

"...for the mission - "

Satine shook her head, rubbing at her arms. Through the glass she watched him crack his eyes open. "You surely are Qui-Gon's apprentice. You know damn well you could have pulled both of them out of the mission. Now your padawans are - sometimes, I really wonder why the hell I am with you."

"Tina...it wasn't my choice - "

"You could have fought the Council Obi-Wan Kenobi." Satine turned, listening to her voice tremble. "But that would have shown attachment wouldn't it? And goddesses forbid you show attachment when it isn't in the Republic's favor."

"My dear - "

"Don't act like the Council doesn't turn a blind eye to us because they want to witness you happy - you know damn well it's because having my legs open is so much fucking easier than - "

"Satine!" Obi-Wan rarely shouted, but he did - and then proceeded to grimace and whisper hoarsely: "Satine...please."

Satine fell against the wall, wrapping her shawl tight against her. "They're calling me 'the Negotiator's Whore' - did you know that? Clever. The 'Master Slut' is a popular one too - even Padmé has fewer nicknames...everyone is too busy prying into her private life, and - and she has so much more at stake than we do."

_But if her intuition was right...and she actually told him what she thought was happening, actually acknowledged why she was feeling sick at all hours and wanting nothing more than to be close to him at all - _

"Aayla Secura said the same thing - but what could I have done Tina? I've been arguing them here and there...they're getting annoyed...I could lose my seat -"

"Would that be so bad?"

Obi-Wan hesitated. "Would it be so bad if I didn't have my Council - I command a tenth of the Army - half the Space fleet - I'm a diplomat - "

"A diplomat...you're not a General Obi-Wan. You like action but not this senseless slaughter...unless I'm wrong?"

"...Satine…"

"Just...this," she looked out the window. Her reflection looked like a ghost. "This war is killing you - that's all I mean my dear. That's all I mean."

Obi-Wan sighed again, and closed his eyes. A few moments later, he was snoring softly.

_Good, _Satine thought while she slid down the wall and began to sob.

* * *

Anakin was still fuming when he made it to the Republic dormitories, though he did slow his furious stalk to a more leisurely pace. He tried to calm himself, tried to think of anything _but _the fact that Obi-Wan was effectively killing himself.

_Why? Why does bad, horrible, awful things happen to everyone I care about?_

_First Mom, then Padmé, then Cliegg, now Obi-Wan - is Ahsoka next? Wait, the brain worms -_

He ran a hand through his hair, sighing heavily - and realized he was at Padmé's door. There was no one one these levels that could out them at least…

Carefully, he punched in the codes Padmé had given him and entered.

Padmé glanced upwards when he stepped in, giving a tired but radiant smile. She was curled on the bed, a datapad resting on her thighs. A mug of tea sat steaming on the nightstand, nearly touching the pillows that were behind her back. Tucking a bit of hair behind her ear, she studied him a moment. "How's Obi-Wan?"

Anakin snorted, sitting on the bed carefully. "How are you feeling?"

"No worse than usual," Padmé muttered wryly - though the attempt at humor was lost. Putting the datapad aside, she shifted until she was sitting beside and leaned into the wall. Her back protested, though she ignored it - something always hurt, what was a little more discomfort. "Satine's pretty stressed about Obi-Wan - I don't think she's used to being in hospitals."

"That makes one of us." There was a part of Anakin that wanted to lean into his wife, to feel her fingers comb through his hair, listening to her speak about the government that he didn't understand. But - everything reminded of Queen Miraj.

Padmé did her best not to sigh, and tapped her fingers against her knees. She was incredibly exhausted, more than usual - the atmosperhic pressure of the Medical Station had been giving her a near constant migraine. "I leave tomorrow morning for the peace negotions - Ahsoka's rather excited."

"Yeah...she mentioned that - I'll be shocked if the Seperatists actually agreed to the terms."

This argument again. Lovely. "You have to have more faith in people - not all Seperatists are -"

"Easy to say when you're not getting by their droids - you haven't seen the -"

"I don't want to argue about this." Padmé watched him roll his eyes, and glanced away for a moment. Rubbing at her arms, she murmured, "I only have two more years left of my term...I was just gonna say it'd be nice that _when _the negotiations are signed - and reconstruction has been underway and my term finishes - what if - what if we left Coruscant? Lived on Naboo?"

"...what about the Order?"

Padmé swallowed, not looking at him. "...that's your choice hon - not mine. I'm not gonna make you choose between the Order and me."

Anakin gave a gusty sigh and nodded, his shoulders loosening a bit. "Thank you."

"Maybe...we wouldn't be a secret anymore."

The unspoken hung heavy in the air.

_We could actually be on health insurance without having our marriage threatened._

_We wouldn't be in so much debt._

"Yeah...that'd be nice."

"Have a few kids - I've always wanted a big family."

Anakin pressed his lips together, tensing again. They'd had this discussion a thousand times. All of her diseases were genetic - his were mostly environmentally caused - but...the threat of -

"Ani," Padmé put a hand on his shoulder - and widened her eyes when he flinched and looked away. What might have been a sob caught in his throat. Her hand fell into her lap, though she didn't move to pull him closer. "Oh Ani."

"I - it was saving Obi-Wan and everyone or - I saw how everyone leered at Ahsoka! They're perverts, everyone one of them!"

"It's not your fault Ana - "

Anakin gave a rough laugh - a little maniacal, a little hysterical - tilting his head at the ceiling, tears coming down his face. His hands twisted while he sat on the bed. "It _is my fault - _I could have stopped it, I could have stopped them from getting hurt, I could have not -"

He gave a ragged breath, head now bent, bracing elbows on his knees, staring at his wedding band. What little food he had eaten was churning in his stomach.

"I - I didn't want to do it. Queen Miraj - she - she -"

Padmé swallowed hard, doing her damndest not to cry herself. She didn't want to say it, didn't want to even _think _it but - but -

"It was rape?"

A choked sound escaped Anakin's throat. He stood, beginning to pace in the small room. If he closed his eyes, maybe he could pretend they were home, in their bedroom. Maybe he could even pretend that if he opened his eyes, he wouldn't see the suitcase that held limb braces, the carry-on that contained too much medication, the crutches shoved in a corner, the wheelchair that couldn't really be used in a place like this.

He barely registed Padmé touching his biolgic wrist - well he did, because he fumbled for her fingers, feeling her delicate hand squeeze.

"I'm sorry."

"It...Anakin. Don't worry about me." Padmé tried to wipe her own tears away when he sat down beside her, shaking like a leaf while he cried. She leaned her head against his shoulder, thanking her gods when he didn't tense up.

* * *

_"... we're due to leave for Coruscant in a week - I'm sending my main fleet ahead. Ahsoka and I will follow a day later in my ship. Master Plo should follow us a few days later."_

Mace rested his hands on his knees. "And Obi-Wan?"

The hologram of Anakin smirked a little. _"He's healing slowly - Duchess Kryze has been assuring his well-being."_

Mace did his best not to snort, and gave a brisk nod. "Very well - thanks for the update."

_"Of course." _Anakin nodded his head, then looked somewhere off the projector capabilities.

The hologram fizzled out.

"Why are you brooding?"

Mace sighed rather harshly, glancing at his former padawan. She was sitting on one of his meditation cushions, sipping a travel mug of caf. Technically she wasn't supposed to have caffeine at the moment - it'd only been a week since she'd been out of the bacta tank, but…

Depa did what she wanted, including ruffling his feathers.

"I'm not brooding, my young Padawan."

She smirked, setting the mug in between her legs. "Anakin's a good kid - he'll be fine taking control of the Third Systems Army."

"He's reck - "

"Obi-Wan is reckless. Anakin has lower death numbers than him."

Well, that was true. Always had been. Anakin may have devised some out-right dangerous plans at times, but he knew the in-and-outs of command and regulation far better than most Jedi. It was just…

"He's close to the Chancellor," Mace muttered, tucking his legs to his chest and staring at a spot past his old padawan's head. He barely noticed her waving at the blinds, causing them to rise and let the weak Coruscant sunlight into his small meditation chambers. The rest of the apartment was behind a door to his left, where few entered besides the occasional dinner with a friend or a former padawan.

"Adi and Stass are too - they're diplomats, acting between the Jedi and the Senate. They - "

Mace scoffed, scratching at his cheek. It felt rough and a tad leathery - he was getting old. "You know what I mean."

Depa sighed, wincing a little when she shifted and put her feet on the floor. She still wasn't fully recovered...and she needed to be in the field soon. "I do - but you should have faith in him. He's a good kid... putting him with Obi-Wan was…"

A snort came from him before he could stop himself. Obi-Wan was many things, but he was not a man who understood his own limits - physically and emotionally. He wondered, as he always had, what it would take to make Obi-Wan take some damn antidepressants.

_Then there was Duchess Kryze._

Mace did like Duchess Kryze. Always had. Thought she was a good woman, with a good head on her shoulders. Oh, she was a little hot-headed, and needed to work more with _all _her people - but he could see what she was planning, to establish relations with one aspect of the Mandalorians before extending her voice. She was making progress in the more traditional parts of the system - building non-profit schools, welfare programs, low-cost healthcare. Death Watch was still an issue, but the system as a whole didn't seem to mind her.

"...always the first to - Master, are you listening?"

He pulled his gaze to Depa, who had wandered to the windows. "Perhaps not as well as I should have."

Depa smiled, staring out at the busy traffic lanes of Coruscant. "I was saying that Obi-Wan has always been the first to preach the Code but ignore it at a whim."

"A rather harsh verdict."

"Perhaps." A smirk crossed her features. "Perhaps I'm enjoying reading two years worth of 'net gossip about him and Duchess Kryze."

"The Council has been enjoying themselves - Senator Amidala and Skywalker keep us rather - "

Depa waved her hand, laughing while she looked at him. "You should pay more attention to gossip, Master. The padawan halls are an excellent place to start."

Mace grimaced, rising from the cushion - only to grimace again, putting a hand on the small of his back. He _was _getting old. "I have not been in the padawan halls since you were my padawan - I will not, if I can help it."

"Mmm - dinner? I've been dying to leave this place."

He nodded, absently waving a hand at the door and following Depa out of his apartment. "What's this I hear about you taking on Caleb Dume?"

* * *

Anakin walked the halls of the Medical Station, towards the rooms they had been given. It had been only an hour since most of the fleet left - only one more week until he left this wretched place.

Spending days in hospitals wasn't _new, _he mused while rounding a corner. A young Twi'lek man, maybe sixteen, grinned at Anakin while they passed.

He did his best not to scowl, inclining his head a fraction of an inch. Seperatist. That boy was a Separatist, an heir to some dukedom. Why did this _have _to have _Separatists onboard? _

Why, rather, did everyone have to announce their political alliances when the halls were full of intensive care patients? Couldn't everyone shit their damn mouths, try not to gossip, try not to gawk at the Jedi walking around, stare in shock when Padmé emerged from her rooms - he wondered how many of them actually thought she was preparing for the peace treaty.

Well...she was. Convincing her to take a damn break and rest well -

Padmé couldn't keep this charade much longer. Her body was not a _functioning body, not anymore_ \- it was _his fault _she was like that -

Genetics. It was genetics fault.

_But I gave the root, she's allergic to roots -_

He slammed a hand on a lift button, staring at the floor.

He could have prevented it. All of it. Could have prevented the worst of Padmé's symptoms - could have gotten Rex and Obi-Wan out. He wasn't quick enough. The mines wouldn't have happened, he could have gotten out of that damn arena.

The lift opened. Anakin stepped in, putting in the medical floor Obi-Wan was on.

So close. They had been so close. Maybe if his body hadn't decided to have a seizure just before he'd been electrocuted, maybe if Queen Miraj hadn't -

The lift jolted, heading upwards.

Anakin wasn't aware he had punched a wall until the pain receptors in his bionic arm tingled and shot pain through his arm. He gritted his teeth, trying not to buckle from the pain.

The lift opened.

"Master?"

Grimacing, Anakin straightened - and ignoring the dent in the metal - looked to his wide-eyed padawan. "Snips - what are you doing?"

Ahsoka, still thin and exhausted from the days on Zygerria, blinked at him. "I'm...heading down to the cafeteria."

They circled each other, switching positions. Anakin cradled his arm a moment, while Ahsoka punched in the floor she needed too.

The halls were somewhat light while he walked - right, it was the dawn cycle. What time of morning he had no idea.

He nearly missed Obi-Wan's room - his body did a whiplash, taking his mind and shutting down the tendrils of chaos seeping into the Force, locking them away.

_To fester. _

Anakin palmed the door opened, listening to the quiet hiss. He knew his master would be awake - Satine was here, after all.

"Hey old - "

Obi-Wan - still not strong enough to sit for long periods of time - was lying in bed, glanced over. He put a finger to his lips, then gestured to his side.

A small smile crossed Anakin's face, and he nodded.

Satine was tucked into Obi-Wan's side, breathing deeply while she slept. Funny, how she looked so much younger while she slept. She was always so stressed, with stress lines etched into her brow. A fleece was draped over her, a disgusting green - but it looked warm.

Anakin scanned the dim room while he sat in the plastic chair beside the bed. An armchair had been put in the room yesterday when Obi-Wan was transferred out of the ICU. He noticing the stack of datapads on the stand beside the armchair.

_Trust the Council to work Obi-Wan to the bone._

"Hey," Obi-Wan murmured when Anakin looked at him. "She fell asleep a few minutes ago. I didn't have the heart to wake her - she hasn't been sleeping much."

"Yeah - neither has Padmé."

Obi-Wan raised his eyebrows, his tired gaze studying Anakin's features. The eye contact was broken by Satine shifting closer to him, and he readjusted the arm wrapped around her with only a mild grimace.

"Does that hurt - "

"Are you doing okay Anakin?"

Anakin hesitated, then shrugged. "Wanted to see how you were doing - and tell Satine the transport is leaving in four hours."

"Ah yes - the negotions dinner is tonight. Pity I can not attend - I heard Ahsoka is joining Senator Amidala?"

"Yeah."

Obi-Wan rubbed a hand over Satine's arm, quiet for a few moments. "Have you talked to her? What happened on - "

"Has she talked to _you?"_

"Anakin…"

* * *

_Author's note: I feel like that was one of the hardest chapters I've written. Wow. Just wow. Trying to get all my thoughts in order, trying to get everybody's emotions togther - and writing Anakin?! Arghh! So difficult. _

_Anyways - I really should write Mace more often. It's fun getting inside his head - poor man dealt with so much shit from the Dooku linage xD_

_Enjoy, my dears_

_ii Digestive Reader ii_


	5. Death Trap

Chapter Five: Death Trap

* * *

There was a knock at the door, and before he could say anything - someone overrode the systems and barged in.

"You know too?"

Anakin glanced upwards, eyebrow cocking while the Clone Commander stalked into the office. He had an unsettling feeling that this conversation wasn't a light one, and pushed away the flimsi on his desk.

Glancing outside Neutral Medical Station, he studied the stars for a moment, the little flecks that could be pollution or ships. It was hard to tell. Folding his arms over his chest, he looked to the Commander. "It's nearly midnight - why did you presume I was awake?"

"Senator Amidala isn't here."

There was half-a-thought, a little whisper that he hated, to clear his desk and run Cody through with his lightsaber. _He knows, he knows, damn it, how, why -_

But Cody was Cody - he knew everything, every man's secrets, every little thing that made for a good ally.

Or a dangerous enemy.

It shouldn't have been a surprise that Cody had figured out where he spent his evenings.

_Well, he probably doesn't know we're married._

With that thought easing his mind, he was surprised by the incredulous look on the Clone Commander's face.

"You don't know?"

"You've lost me."

Cody gave a sigh, scanning the room once and slumping into the seat across from the desk. Despite the fact he shared the face of several million men, he...was so individual and _different _from his brothers. More…

_Human._

"You wouldn't have a stash of whiskey in that desk?"

"I don't drink," Anakin muttered through gritted teeth.

Cody snorted, scratching his fingers over the beard that was growing. "You were trained by Obi-Wan and you don't drink?"

Anakin shrugged. No need for _anyone _to know that he'd seen his fair share of drunkards. That Watto liked to beat him with a beer bottle. That before Watto, one of his earliest memories was watching his mother being raped by a drunk man at the slave market.

"Does this have something to do with Obi-Wan?" Anakin asked, leaning forward in his seat. A prickle went through him when he remembered how...tangled Satine's Force presence had been, how Obi-Wan watched her like she was the only being in the Galaxy. Well, he always looked at her like that but...this was different. "The medics say he's fine - well, besides that infection in one of his cuts."

"...sort of...the Duchess - "

"Yeah…" Anakin attempted a smile, though it was faint. Somewhere, there was a lump in his throat and he didn't really trust himself to speak.

Cody studied him for a moment, then gave a rough snort and glanced away, towards the floor. "Out of all the stupid shit he has pulled... getting the Duchess pregnant? _Now? _He must be out of his goddamn mind."

"Hmm - yeah."

"We're in the middle of a war!" Cody shouted, rising to his feet and beginning to pace.

Funny, how even in civvies Anakin was half-tempted to snap to attention - until, of course, he remembered that for now, he outranked Cody.

"We're in the middle of a fucking - then he nearly dies and thank the gods we were near Mandalore but then the peace negotiations are starting and - how _stupid _can he _possibly_ be? Sticking his prick into everything and not anticipating that - "

Cody came to a halt by the window, slamming a hand into it and grimacing. His back was turned, but his shoulders still shook a few times.

Anakin mulled over what was just said in the past few minutes, then stood. His joints cracked, and he grimaced at the twinge in his neck. _The epilepsy implant still wasn't working. It wouldn't be, until they made it to Coruscant._

_Cody...you love him._

"Cody...I think some rest would do you good."

"Sir - "

"That's an order, Commander." He cracked a smile when Cody turned to glance at him, eyes bloodshot and tears refusing to fall. "I'm your commanding officer, remember?"

Cody opened his mouth to say something, then snapped it shut and - without a word or a salute - walked to the exit. The door slid open and shut.

The office plunged into silence. Anakin scanned the desk for an epilepsy suppressant, then reached into a drawer and pulled out a bottle of pills. He grimaced while he unscrewed the cap, tossing it on the messy desk and shaking out a blue little tablet.

He hated these things. Hated how woozy it made him feel, how tired it made him feel, how it shut everything off.

...but it shut everything off too, made him be able to sleep through the night without night terrors... without nothing.

Anakin put the anti-depressant under his tongue, grimacing as it immediately began to dissolve. He would have left the mess of flimsi on the desk if this had been his own flagship or his office at the Temple - but this was a Neutral Medical Station, and he carefully cleaned everything and tucked it was needed away, locking it in the drawer and then using his own locking mechanism over it.

It would be about thirty minutes before the anti-depressant kicked in, he calculated when looking at the chrono.

Giving a sigh, Anakin ran his fingers through his hair. The morning had felt like a lifetime ago…

_I'm surprised she didn't demand a divorce, _Anakin thought miserably while he walked to the window and leaned against the windowpane. He couldn't ever remember crying as hard as he did - not his first night at the Temple, not when everyone thought Obi-Wan was dead and Ko-Adi was briefly his master, not when his mom died, not when he thought he'd lost Padmé to her diseases, not when Cliegg died…

_I can't even have sex with my wife._

Well, he could. He had the anatomy. But the _thought _of having sex, of someone seeing him naked, of nails scratching at his back, at thrusting -

That was supposed to be for Padmé and Padmé only.

Not a Queen that looked like a cat and whose voice was a literal purr.

He rubbed at the tears falling down his face. Though loath to admit it, he was relieved when the transports came and the entourage - Padmé and her staff, Satine, Ahsoka, various Senators and diplomats from all factions - filed into their respective ships and flown to Mandalore in the early afternoon.

He didn't think he could take it anymore, everyone on eggshells around him - around each other too, because if everything worked out...well, there wouldn't be a war next week.

Oh, there'd be too much paperwork and meetings and arguing and all that, but the Galaxy could breathe. It could reform and change. Begin to heal.

...he wanted to leave the Order. He really did. But being a Jedi was everything to him...as was Padmé.

Then his dear Angel...she was slowly killing herself, trying to maintain her workload she had before falling ill. It was nearly impossible, to balance the work and the stress and the constant barrage of doctors and procedures and -

They had no money. They were nearly a million credits in debt, and maybe, just maybe, if the war ended and he explained the situation to Mace and then Padmé could have health insurance without fear of the public's scrutiny - because the best insurance was government run, and it was nerve-wracking to even think of what would happen if someone leaked her medical information for a quick buck.

Then there was the fact that they were still supporting the farm on Tatooine and Owen was having a hell of a time convincing Beru to move to - well not Coruscant, but maybe Naboo at least and -

He shimmied his gloves off, feeling exhaustion begin to thread through his body. Carefully, he sat on the window's ledge and leaned his head against the cool surface. Space was cold. It had always been cold.

"At least Obi-Wan will be happy," Anakin muttered out loud.

Obi-Wan Kenobi, whose whole world had always appeared to be the Jedi. Who loved hard and drank hard and fought harder - but always silent, always with grace and dignity.

_Well...until Satine had shown up._

He liked Satine - loved her, in fact. He'd known her as Padmé's friend before Obi-Wan's lover. He'd learned more about Obi-Wan from her in a single night than Obi-Wan had ever said in ten whole kriffen years.

_At least he'll be happy._

Anakin stared at his scarred and calloused hands, wiggling the fingers and avoiding looking at his wedding ring.

Obi-Wan would leave for Sundari without a thought to the Jedi, probably drop on his knee and marry Satine, have his baby and be Duke Consort before this time next year.

The world was becoming fuzzy, just a little.

Dragging his legs to his chest, Anakin rested his head on his knees, trying to breathe steadily.

_That _was something Anakin envied about Obi-Wan. Well, there were many things. The ease in which he spoke, the way he laughed and made everyone comfortable, how everyone loved and flirted with him, how he could have a partner _\- a Mandalorian Duchess, someone in the limelight - _and not even the Jedi batted an eye, how he could knock his girlfriend up and _still_ not even worry about if the pregnancy would kill her or if shitty genetics would be passed down.

Anakin closed his eyes, shaking while he felt the antidepressant work through his body, beginning to ease his muscles and calm his mind.

He barely managed to stand and stumble to the adjacent bedroom before collapsing on a cot.

He dreamed of nothing.

* * *

"But _why _do I have to wear this death trap?"

"You look beautiful Ahsoka."

"I look like a webcam girl," Ahsoka grumbled while she turned in the mirror. Okay, so the blue dress _was _nice - it was modest, as Sundari fashion was. A hemline at her ankles, sleeves that hugged her arms, pearls that studded the androgynous neckline. Thank the _goddess _she had at least put her foot down on the heels - those things were death traps.

Smoothing a hand over the slim bodice, Ahsoka turned to Padmé sitting on the couch. They were sharing chambers with her handmaiden Dormé - why, Ahsoka didn't quite know. She knew it had something to do with Padmé's health - after all, why would she be sitting down and looking so tired despite the bright gleam in her eyes.

"When's the banquet?"

Padmé frowned, then glanced at the handmaiden when she wandered in. "6:30pm tomorrow?"

"Sounds about right - Ahsoka, you'll want to hang that before it gets rumpled." Dormé waited for the padawan to nod and stride into the bedroom. She sat beside her mistress, holding out a glass of water and a pile of pills - six, at nighttime. "Here."

"Thank you," Padmé whispered, taking the needed medication. She swallowed the medication quickly - usually she took three at once, just to make it easier. Grimacing, she stopped at the water when she was done and looked to her handmaiden and longtime friend. "What? What are you thinking?"

Dormé hummed, tucking her legs closer to her body while she leaned into the pile of pillows on the couch. "Will you ever tell Ahsoka - or more people - what's wrong?"

"What's wrong?" Ahsoka asked, coming back in her usual Jedi attire and flopping down on the plush armchair. "The fact that I'm starving and I have no idea where the kitchens are?"

"It's past 9pm."

"You really are your master's Padawan," Dormé muttered while she observed padawan sprawled on the armchair.

Padmé couldn't help but snicker a little. "Ahsoka - the kitchens are relatively easy to find. We're on the third floor - take the elevators to the bottom, take a right immediately, and follow the statues of past rulers to the kitchens."

"That's it?"

"That's it." Padmé took another sip of the water and managed a smile. "Oh - leave your lightsaber. The guards will question it at this time of night."

Ahsoka nodded, scrambling to her feet and unclipping the saber. She bolted into the bedchamber that she was sharing with Padmé, tossed the saber on her bed, and practically bounced to the door. "Want anything?"

"I'm okay," Padmé murmured while Dormé shook her head.

* * *

Ahsoka realized, after she had been wandering for awhile, that she was on the wrong floor. She shivered in the dim hall, rubbing at her arms and wishing she had thought to pull on a sweatshirt. There were plants lining the walls, with the gleaming city lights coming through the windows.

She wondered what floor she was on - Sundari didn't use Arabash when it came to numbering and labeling things.

They used Mando'a.

As most people - well, most padawans - she knew a smattering of Mando'a the botched version that the clones spoke around each other.

"Master Kenobi could tell me," Ahsoka muttered to herself. A guard passed her, nodding in what was probably recognition. Well, she _had _been on Sundari before.

She honestly couldn't believe that Master Kenobi _\- the Obi-Wan Kenobi _\- had taken such a beating on Kadavo. Even Rex hadn't been that bad. Even growing up, before becoming a padawan herself, she'd idealized Obi-Wan. Thought he was invincible.

_Clearly not._

To put it bluntly...well, he was a reckless shit.

No wonder Anakin was such an adrenaline junkie and -

"Ahsoka?"

Ahsoka whipped around, eyes widening when she realized -

"Duchess Kryze! What - "

"My chambers are down the hall." The Duchess gestured behind her, tugging her robe closer to her. Funny, how similar it looked to a Jedi cloak. "I heard footsteps and thought to investigate - are you lost?"

Ahsoka scratched her neck sheepishly. "Maybe? I _was _trying to find the kitchens, Your Grace."

"The kitchens?" She chuckled, coming a few steps forward. In the light from the windows, her hair was white. "That's a long way."

"So I've gathered, Your - "

"Oh please - I think we know each other well enough to drop the formalities."

"Midnight snack huh?" Satine leaned against the wall, a note of bemusement in her voice. "You're part of the Dooku lineage all right?"

Ahsoka blinked, not quite understanding for a sec. "Oh - right - wait, Master Kenobi eats at night too?"

"Constantly."

"He always tells us it will give us heartburn once we lay down," Ahsoka muttered.

The Duchess - Satine - laughed, a sound Ahsoka realized she had never heard. "Obi-Wan has never been good at practicing what he preaches - do you want to come into my apartment? I do have a kitchenette - some hot chocolate?"

Ahsoka thought about it for a moment, then nodded. _It was about time she learned more about her other master._

* * *

_Author's note: hello there, my dears. It's been a few weeks since and update, but my life has been hell on Earth lately. _

_But do enjoy Anakin panicking, Padmé being awesome, and Ahsoka being over eager to learn the deets on Obi-Wan's life._

_;)_

_ii Digestive Reader ii_


	6. Optimism Kills

Chapter Six: Optimism Kills

* * *

Satine dug around in her medicine cabinet, muttering when she couldn't find what she was looking for. She heard her handmaiden puttering about the bedchamber, and poked her head out. "Christo?"

The aged handmaiden, whom had lived through two wars and had been handmaiden to Satine's mother and one of her sister-in-laws, turned from fluffing the bed. Black ringlets streaked with gray fell in her face. "Meg?"

"Do you know where the anti-nausea tablets are? I can't find any."

Christo raised her bushy eyebrows, giving a bemused smile while she left her task and wandered into the bathroom.

Satine found herself pushed aside, then rubbed her neck a bit sheepishly when the handmaiden found the package within a few seconds of looking. "Vor entye," she murmured when the package was dropped into her hand.

"You feel okay?" Christo leaned against the sink, her thickened body causing the porcelain to creak. "You looked little - "

"Ni'm fine," Satine muttered while she sat on the covered sani and snapped two tablets out of the package. "Just..nerves - there may not be a war this time next week, if the negotiations go well today."

Christo sighed heavily, waiting until Satine had chewed the tablets to speak. "Tina - gar cuyir too optimistic."

"Ibac's a dush kebi?" Satine whispered, sounding so utterly exhausted and out of place in her court clothes. At least her headpiece wasn't in place yet, leaving her hair to fall around her shoulders.

She studied the young woman she had practically raised - Freya Kryze had been many things, but motherly was not one of them. What she saw was a woman who had been tossed too much to early, who gave up her promising career as an opera singer to rule a system that couldn't decide if it wanted to be warriors or pacifists or a little of both, to raise her brother's child alone.

Kneeling, Christo took the young woman's hands in hers. "Ner adiik...I know you'd rather be with your Jett'i...but he's safe right now, counting on you to help lead these negotiations and bring peace...peace so he can be beside you."

Satine didn't respond right away, staring at the floor. She eventually nodded, blinking hard and fast, dabbing at her eyes with one hand. "Gods, I don't need to reapply everything."

Christo gave a small laugh, squeezing the hand still in her grasp. "I proud of you Satine - I never tell you enough. You came into this role with nothing - and look at you now. A leader - "

"Who's people want her dead because I can't convince the New Mandalorian's to stop their xenophobia and the system as a whole to stop hating me for sleeping with a Jedi." Satine gave a rough laugh, dabbing at her eyes again. "Damn Obi-Wan for making me so stressed lately."

Christo raised her eyebrows, opening her mouth to ask something before shaking her head and standing. "Do you want help with your headdress? I know you how you hate one you plan to wear today - and you need eat at breakfast with those stuffy politicians."

Satine nodded, remembering how strange yesterday's dinner had been, with everyone dining and not acting like they weren't on three different sides of this war. It had been so exhausting, more so when she noticed Padmé struggling to stay in the present or the Seperatist senator Voe Atell to stop trying to pry into Satine's private life.

She just wanted the negotiations over with and a peace to insure.

That couldn't be too much to ask?

* * *

Padmé woke to voices floating from the living chamber, hushed and trying not to be to loud. She grimaced, feeling her body shudder before she could stop it, her heart racing more than usual. Upon opening her eyes and trying to rise on her elbows - she held a fist to her mouth, trying not to vomit. The drapes had yet to be thrown open, though it was much too bright.

Her skin felt clammy to the touch, sweat pooling at the small of her back and hair clumping at the nape of her neck despite the chill in her bones. Everything in her head was fuzzy, and she carefully leaned her head on her knees, breathing deeply.

A fever was not what she needed today. Not when she needed to focus on the negotiations.

She tried to think of the previous night, but all she remembered was sipping sparkling juice and nodding to everyone at the table, letting everyone's voices float over her unless she was spoken too.

Carefully, she craned her head to the alarm clock and read the numbers: 8:00am.

The negotiations would begin at 9:30am.

Lovely. Barely enough time to get ready.

The door whooshed opened, and Dormé poked her head in. She gave a smile, stepping into the bedchamber and holding a comlink in her hand. "You missed the communal breakfast mistress."

"Who were you arguing with?" Padmé muttered, rubbing at her eyes and realizing Ahsoka wasn't in the chamber - probably at breakfast then. Ahsoka loved Mandalorian food probably more than Anakin's cooking.

Dormé snorted, dropping the comlink on the bed and pressing a hand to Padmé's brow. "Your husband - he's still on the line."

Padmé nodded, a finger hovering over the answer before she looked at the handmaiden. "Can you run a bath - and add - "

"I know what to do," Dormé muttered with a wave of her hand.

Padmé smiled and pressed the answer button. Immediately, a small Holo of her husband popped up.

_"Padmé!"_

It hurt to look at the bright blue hue, and she grimaced while she turned down the contrast. Over the sound of water running, she murmured, "Hey."

Anakin studied her, his mouth pulling into a line. She wondered what happened to that chirpy young man she had married. _"How are you feeling Angel?"_

She shrugged - even that action hurt, jostling her muscles. She felt like her head would fall off her shoulders. "I can survive."

He gave a sigh, watching her stand slowly, taking the walking stick beside the bed and scooping the comm into her hand. _"I wish I could be there today."_

"If all goes well, we can release the recording." Padmé set the comm on the edge of the sink, nodding to Dormé finishing filling the bath. "You can pretend it's one of your soaps."

Behind them, Dormé snorted.

Anakin rolled his eyes, though he was smiling. His gaze flicked briefly down while she sat on one of the ledges, leaning the walking stick beside her, and began to undress._ "Force, you do that before I have a meeting with Mace?_"

Padmé batted her eyelashes at him, to which he laughed at. It was a rare sound, his laugh these days - she hoped she would hear it much more often in the coming weeks.

If everything went well.

_"Be careful,"_ he whispered.

"I'll be sitting for the better part of seven hours - "

"Our lady finds a way to get into trouble even during a meeting." Dormé - whom had stepped out for a moment - came between the Holo and Padmé, pressing seven pills into her hand. "Breakfast."

"My favorite."

Dormé shook her head, setting the glass of water down and nodding to Anakin while she walked out of the 'fresher.

"What were you two arguing about?" Padmé asked, separating the pills into three piles.

_"Ah - nothing you need to worry about. I'll tell you at home."_

* * *

Satine squared her shoulders while she walked into the throne room, knowing she was the last to arrive. The Seperatist droid guards against one wall hefted their weapons, though they remained where they were, cold and gleaming.

_9:40am._

_"You hold the power,"_ her father had once said,_ "You hold the power, don't let anyone take from you."_

Funny words from a man who had been stabbed in the back on the very dias steps she was walking towards.

Funny words from a man who couldn't decide if he wanted to be a pacifist or a warlord, who's mind was fickle and who's xenophobia had bleached the brains of the New Mandalorians.

She sat on the throne, her guards settling into their spots.

_Just because I'm a pacifist doesn't mean I won't defend myself._

The throne room was silent. Everyone had stood - everyone but Padmé, whom was receiving strange looks.

Amazing, how she can handle her body destroying herself with so much grace.

There were three Senators for each side - Amidala, Organs, Mothma for the Republic and Voe Atell, Bed Lawise, someone she didn't know for the Seperatist.

Oh, and Ahsoka - supposedly to represent the Jedi Society, but the Coruscanti sect was so damn intertwined with the Republic that -

Satine raised her hand, acknowledging that everyone should be seated. She scanned each face, keeping her own impassive. Gods, she hated politics.

"I welcome you all to Sundari, as my guests and as my friends. Once our systems once got along, though that has changed. This sanctioned meeting is the first ever held between The Galactic Republic and the Confederacy of Independent States. I am honored, Senators, Majesties," she glanced to Bail, unable to help herself, "Viceroy's."

Bail - stiff and uncomfortable - relaxed a little as everyone else did, smiling at the jest.

"I am honored, as Duchess of the Mandalore System, whom have remained neutral and all your allies, to lead this sanction to peace. This war has gone on too long, killed millions, separated families and lovers and friends on and off the battlefield."

One of the aides - standing at a far wall - rolled their eyes and muttered something at the word 'lovers.' The aide beside them snickered.

Satine bristled, stiffening on her throne and clearing her throat. "We have all seen the horrors of this war - and hopefully today, we can end it once in for all, so our children and grandchildren can grow in a time of peace and prosperity."

She waited a moment for her words to sink in, glancing at the holocam that was recording everything. "I will moderate only if asked. I believe each person has datapads beneath their seats - you can begin when ready."

* * *

Five hours later, and Ahsoka was really wishing she had joined the aides against the wall. At least then her feet wouldn't be aching as much and she wouldn't be so bored listening to the politicians bitch and complain about subjects they'd already discussed three times.

But she knew Padmé wasn't technically supposed to be alone, even in an environment like this, and so stood by the Senator's side.

Padmé was speaking, her legendary calm beginning to show cracks. "The Republic recognizes the tragedy of war. But there is nothing we can change that has already occurred."

Seperatist Senator Voe Atell, a species that Ahsoka didn't quite recognize, gave a small snort. "Say it aloud before this gathering, as representative for Chancellor Palpatine, that you declare without reservation the Separatist State legitimate."

Viceroy Oganan opened his mouth, probably to attempt to sway the conversation to what the Galaxy would gain if the Seperatist State was legitimate before -

"I have something to say about the legitimacy of the Separatists."

Ahsoka whipped her head around, eyes widening when she spotted Lux Bonteri strol through the doors.

"Why is Lux Bonteri here?"

"What could he possibly have to say?"

"He was not invited."

Ahsoka leaned down to Padmé, her voice a whisper. "You didn't mention that Lux Bonteri would be here."

Padmé frowned, staring at her dead friend's son. "I...didn't know."

Lux walked to the Duchess' throne, where he bowed. The Duchess, reclined on her throne, studied him quietly before giving the barest of nods to speak.

He turned, glancing to Ahsoka while he spoke. "I stand before you, son of Mina Bonteri, loyal Separatist, a patriot, a friend. It has come to my attention that my mother was murdered by Count Dooku in cold blood."

Shocked gasps went through the room.

One of the Seperatist senators srood. "That is a lie! Remove this traitor immediately.

Ahsoka went to lunge forward, only to find Padmé putting a gentle hand on her stomach, forcing her to stand straight.

Lux voice rose while two commando droids took him and dragged him toward the side door. "I will not be silenced!"

Satine rose from her throne, putting her hand up. "Stop this!"

Senator Voe stood. "We would ask you to respect that we deal with this matter ourselves."

"No! Dooku is deceiving you! You will all be betrayed just like my mother."

The door opened and closed, drowning his voice out.

One of the male Separatists stood. "I apologize for such a rude interruption. Please let us continue."

The Duchess nodded after a moment, sitting slowly back on the throne.

Ahsoka leaned down to Padmé. "We can't just let them take him. He'll be killed."

Padmé tapped her fingers against the chair, then nodded. "Do what you can, Ahsoka," she whispered, "but be discreet."

* * *

Mando'a Translations:

Meg - what?

Vor entye - Thank you

Ni'm fine - I'm fine

gar cuyir too optimistic - you are to optimistic

Ibac's a dush kebi - That's a bad thing?

Ner adiik - my child

* * *

_Author's note: hello my friends! As you can see, I'm separating the episode "A Friend in Need" into 2 chapters because I have PLANS_

_Giving Satine more backstory is so much fun lately, as is getting into her head._

_Padmé is a bit more difficult, but as I decided long ago that's she is disabled with many invisible illnesses like me, it makes it SO much easier. Also - Padmé had a fever in this chapter because I had one today and this chapter was literally the only thing I did today. That and sleep. I slept ALOT._

_Do enjoy, and hey - maybe we'll get a pov from Bo-Katan in the near future ;)_

_ii Digestive Reader ii_


	7. What If?

Chapter Seven: What If?...

* * *

"What if the negotiations don't work? We're gonna be sent to the front lines again! We probably won't even be able to be home! Oh my God, they know were we are, they could blockade this entire medical station - "

"Anakin, some of their own are on this medical - "

"What if the Separatists take Sundari hostage - Obi-Wan, _Padmé _is on Sundari! She can't be taken hostage, not in her condition! What if she - "

Obi-Wan scrubbed a hand over his face, closing his eyes briefly. He hadn't been able to keep his former padawan from pacing nervously for the past three hours - and honestly, that's all he wanted to do too. Cracking open his eyes - the florescent lights still hurt his eyes, so they were dimmed - and studied Anakin.

"You need to have faith, my young padawan. Bail and Senator Mothma are with Padmé - and they're protected by Ahsoka _and _Mandalorians."

"Dormé too." Anakin dropped into a plastic chair beside the bed, scratching his chin. "I've seen her take down a fair share of assassins."

Obi-Wan offered a small smile, reaching out with a hand and touching Anakin's knee - the medics had only just allowed him to have the handcuff removed. He didn't dare say anything...if he did, he feared he would jinx everything.

* * *

The day was _not _going as planned. Oh, bursting into the Sundari palace undetected, shouting at some Senators, and being dragged off into the Seperatist ship was part of the plan. Interrogating Dooku even went well -

But _Ahsoka Tano _was not supposed to be there. She was not supposed to be standing next to the pale Senator Amidala, or chase after him when the commando droids tried to kill him.

So there he was, clambering onto a _Republic _ship with Ahsoka with Commando droids at his back and Mandalorian guards gunning the droids down.

Ahsoka shoved passed him, practically sprinting into the cockpit while it took off. She barely noticed the R2 unit manning the ship - simply patting its head and sliding into the pilot's seat.

She took the controls when they left Kalelava airspace, then flicked on autopilot.

The whole capture, brief imprisonment, and rescue took what - three hours total?

Lux stood in the cockpit, not sure what to do.

The R2 swiveled it's head, seeming to glare at him before a Holo popped up.

A Holo of _Anakin Skywalker. _

_"Ahsoka! Padmé just contacted me - she told me the peace negotiations have all but collapsed. Where are you?"_

Ahsoka didn't quite look at him. "I'm en route to Coruscant, Master. I have Lux Bonteri with me."

Lux stepped forward, trying to wrap his head around the fact that he was speaking to _Anakin Skywalker. _Oh sure, he might have been a Seperatist and a newly minted Death Watch member, but the Jedi still fascinated him. "Master Jedi, I'm sorry if I've caused you any trouble."

Ahsoka turned around. "It's nothing. You will be safe now with the Republic."

Master Skywalker sighed. _"All right. Bring Bonteri to Coruscant immediately. We'll discuss giving him amnesty."_

"Yes, Master."

Lux closed his eyes while the Holo disappeared, then pulled out a stun gun. He barely met Ahsoka's eyes when she turned around. "I can't go with you, Ahsoka."

"...what?"

"I told you, I have a plan."

Before he knew what had happened, Ahsoka had taken the gun and pointed it at him. "Shooting me is not going to be part of it. What are you doing with a gun anyhow? You're not a fighter."

"I'm no longer a Separatist either. I won't join the Republic."

"What other options do you have?"

"There is a different way."

"I understand everything that you've been through. I understand you feel alone. But the Republic will help you."

_No… you don't. The Republic barely helps their own people._

"Like they helped my mother?! I've already made contact with a group on Carlac who are noble and are allied with my cause."

"And what cause is that?"

"To kill Dooku."

"The only one you're going to get killed is yourself." Ahsoka sat down at the pilot's seat, putting the stun gun on the dash. "I'm sorry, but I'm taking you to Coruscant. Your plan hasn't exactly been well thought out, Lux. Without me, how did you think you were going to escape those droids?"

_Ahsoka...I'm so sorry._

"Like this." He lunged for the stun gun, shooting her before she could react.

Ahsoka fell over the controls.

"I'm sorry, Ahsoka.

The R2 unit rolled in again once Lux had out her in the co-pilot's chair.

"It seems Ahsoka is quite exhausted. She probably should sleep it off." Lux didn't know why he was talking to a droid, but the thing made him really uneasy. He slid into the pilot's chair and set the coordinates to Carlac.

"To Death Watch then."

* * *

"Gods, for someone so smart how you can be so incredibly stupid?"

Padmé blinked, looking from her caf to her longtime friend. "Excuse me?"

Satine scoffed, too busy ripping her court clothes off to speak immediately. Beneath her heavy robes and jewelry she looked so...thin.

She could practically count each of Satine's ribs.

"Do you even know that Lux Bonteri has ties to Death Watch?" Satine spat, stalking into her bedchamber. The failed negotiations had left everyone in a foul mood - all that planning and careful trading agreements and careful words for fucking _Lux Bonteri _to fuck with it all.

Padmé gave a gasp, leaning back in the armchair that sat in the Duchess' living chamber. "He _what? _His mother would never - "

"We're not our parents, Padmé." Satine came back into the living chamber, a robe suspiciously like a Jedi cloak thrown over her shift. She sat down on the couch and let out a heavy sigh. "I'd say I can't believe you encouraged Ahsoka to run after Lux, but you probably would have done it if she hadn't."

"I do not believe I can do much running these days," Padmé whispered. She had been feeling close to tears for hours, ever since the negotiations had failed. When she had commed Anakin she _had _teared up, but she still had to complete five Holo-conferences, so the political mask had to be maintained.

Satine gave a small snort, rubbing at her nose while she drew her long legs to her chest. "Sorry...I just...I just _really _want peace to happen."

"It will - we have to be optim - "

"Padmé - please." Satine leaned her head against the back of the couch, closing her eyes. She could barely handle a conversation right now. "Gods, Padmé - how do you handle being nauseous all the time?"

Padmé raised her eyebrows, glancing around the impersonal living chamber. She found her gaze settling on the fish tank, watching one of the fish swish its tail against another. "Your...is your bulimia - "

_"No." _Satine cracked open her eyes and glanced towards the window. "My period just hasn't come in awhile - and I can barely keep food down, I've been so stressed."

"Ah - well, at least Obi-Wan _will _heal. That's one thing you can count on, if the Galaxy will not heal."

Satine rubbed her knuckles against her leg, looking close to tears. She turned her head when the door swooshed open, giving a smile when the guest walked in. "Korkie."

"Hi Auntie - Senator Amidala." Korkie dropped his school bag beside the table at the door and came to the couch. His usually perfectly coiffed hair flopped onto his forehead while he bent down to embrace his aunt. "I'm sorry about the negotiations," he murmured.

She squeezed his arm, giving a small shrug. "When we fail - try, try again."

Korkie gave a laugh, plopping down beside her and toeing his boots off. "Senator - how are you feeling?"

* * *

"The day I can leave this armor - "

"Hey, the payout - "

Bo-Katan Kryze walked behind her cousins, slapping them both upside the head while she pushed passed them. "Speak louder, why don't you?"

The twins - Lee and Linn - had the decency to look sheepish while they continued to buckle their blue-and-white armor in silence.

She surveyed the tent, which was one of the largest in camp. The Kryze clan had always been large, even after the civil war -

Shaking her head, Bo-Katan glanced around at her family - there were about fourteen in total present, if one excluded her aunt whom was pregnant and thus staying out of most of the action. She clapped her hands together.

"I need six of you with me - scouts said Lux Bonteri has just landed."

Linn glanced upwards, looking pale despite her dark skin. "Any word from - "

"Only that a Jedi apprentice is onboard - a Togruta."

"Anakin Skywalker's - "

Bo-Katan caught her helmet that one of her uncles tossed her. "What other Togruta - come on, we move out in five."

Shoving the helmet on, Bo-Katan blinked once to adjust to the intra vision before striding outside. The wind blew heavy, causing snow to pile into drifts beside each tent. She wrinkled her nose, not looking forward to flying in such a mess - maybe it would calm down a little.

_Or we could just take a land speeder or two, so we're not caught in the worst of it._

Bo-Katan spotted Vizsla stalk out of one tent, yelling at the top of his lungs about something that didn't matter.

"The things I do for you Sati'ika," she muttered.

She glanced behind her when her family members filed behind her, giving a sharp nod. "Linn, Lee, Atcher, Uncle Leo - on the land speeders and bikes. Everyone else - with me. You know the rendezvous."

Everyone nodded. Bo-Katan gave a grim smile beneath her helmet, walking through camp and to the vehicle shed. She clapped her hands, signaling for jetpacks to be started.

_But yu're missing out on some fun stuff sis, _Bo-Katan thought while they launched into the air. There were a few whoops from her cousins - and the Death Watch camp - when they flew over the remains of camp and into the Carlac plains.

She always did enjoy flying - it helped clear her head, making everything shut up for a few precious moments and focus on the task at hand.

_Like finding that obnoxious Bonteri and the Togruta padawan._

Bo-Katan scanned the fields, then rolled her eyes when she spotted the Mand'o ship sitting on the plains, the Bonteri boy and the Togruta not far off, bickering up a storm.

_Korkie's their age, _Bo-Katan thought incredulously while they neared. She signaled to land.

The bickering ceased when she fell to the ground and cut her jetpack. Her family members surrounded the pair gradually.

"Hey, kid." Bo-Katan studied the parka covered Bonteri boy, wondering if he had ever held a blaster. "You're late."

Bo-Katan stalked towards them, knowing she had to put on a facade. "Did you get us what we need?"

Lux raised his chin, trying to stare her down "Yes, I have the information with me."

Bo-Katan gestured to Ahsoka, listening to the speeders pull up. "Who's this?"

The Togruta swallowed hard, edging close to Lux. "I'm his - I'm his betrothed."

"Right...right."

Bo-Katan wanted to burst into laughter - she knew she would, if she looked at any of her family members. Walking around the Togruta she said "Betrothed? Little skinny, isn't she?

Lux stood between Bo-Katan and the Togruta. "She serves her purpose."

_Never marry, you asshole._

Something chirped. Bo-Katan turned around, raising her eyebrows when she spotted an astromech droid gliding over the snow. That... wasn't a normal looking astromech droid.

Clearly someone's pet project.

Which meant it was probably rigged with who knew what.

Bo-Katan withheld a sigh. "We leave now. The snow is coming."

She stepped away, punching in the coordinates back to camp, leaving the pair to bicker.

"Are you coming?" Atcher asked from the speeder.

Lux turned, moving to speeder. "Yes."

The Togruta stood back. "Uh...I should stay with the ship."

Linn snorted. "No. You're coming, too."

* * *

_Author's note: ah, what disgruntled Rebels fan is gonna tell me that Bo-Katan would never act as an informant for her sister? Mmm. _

_But anyways - I thoroughly enjoyed this chapter. Having Satine gradually become more and more undone by her life and the failed negotiations is becoming fun. Basically everyone is unraveling at this point._

_Expect the new chapter soon - like probably within 24 hours or way less ¯\\_( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)_/¯_

_It may involve Satine arguing with the Jedi Council. Maybe ;)_

_Enjoy dearies_

_ii Digestive Reader ii_


	8. Miscommunications

Chapter Eight: Miscommunications

* * *

"Yesterday, Ahsoka decided to run after Lux Bonteri, who has known Death Watch ties, rescue him and take him to Coruscant and Anakin - who would grant him amnesty? Sheev _fucking Palpatine?_ The Jedi Order? Are we agreed this is what happened?"

Ahsoka swallowed hard while she watched the Duchess of Mandalore yell at the Holo-conference of the Jedi Order and Anakin Skywalker. She glanced down, barely acknowledging Padmé's comforting hand.

Grandmaster Yoda hummed, glancing around the Council. "_Grant amnesty, we would have. Allies, the Bonteri's have always been to the Order."_

"Allies because before the war they supplied you with a million credits a year for renovations," the Duchess snarled. She looked at the silenced Jedi master's, a feral smile curling on her lips. "Oh - did your Jedi not know that?"

_"You're walking on ice, Your Grace,"_ Master Windu murmured.

"I'm walking on ice? One of your own nearly caused an eruption within Death Watch! It'll take my informants weeks to calm them and convince them not to strike me or the Jedi!"

Padmé stepped forward, a worried frown on her face. She has to use Ahsoka's shoulder for support. "Ahsoka did not act on the Jedi's orders - she acted on mine."

_"You have informants in Death Watch?_" Master Ki-Adi asked, leaning forward_. "We have no knowledge of this."_

"Of course I have informants in Death Watch - I am not so stupid to trust blindly anymore." The Duchess shook her head. "Ahsoka, it was moral thing to want to protect your friend. It was not the legal thing to do."

_"Strong words coming from a women who allows her people to terrorize and rape each other in the streets,"_ Mace Windu scoffed.

The Duchess ignored the remark. "Actions like yours, Ahsoka, cause catastrophic ripples. Mando news outlets are starting to catch wind, they blame the Jedi for the failed negotiations."

Ahsoka turned her head away, trying not to cry. She wondered why her master hadn't said anything - he always defended her.

Then -

_"Are you suggesting Ahsoka is a target on Kalevela?"_ Anakin asked, raising his eyebrows. Gods, he looked so tired. _"She's a kid."_

The Duchess raised her chin, glaring down the Hologram. No one commented on the tears falling down her face. "You're a kid too Anakin - you're a kid, fighting in a war that the Republic and the Seperatist say they have no choice in fighting."

_"Suggesting, what are you?"_ Grandmaster Yoda asked when no one spoke.

The Duchess gave a small smile, like it pained her greatly. "I'm saying that anybody the Republic is not welcome here. Not now. Not when we were so close to peace."

_"But Obi-Wan is?"_ Agen Kolar scoffed.

The Duchess was still for a moment. She eventually raised her thin eyebrows, taking a small step forward while she chuckled. "I would suggest, Masters, that you don't make Obi-Wan choose between me or the Jedi - because you won't like the outcome."

She gave a small smile, nose scrunching while a guard cut the transmission.

"Satine - " Padmé started when the Duchess leaned against the projector table.

The Duchess grimaced, rubbing at her nose. In the dim light of the conference room she looked far too old for someone her age, like she beared the weight of the Galaxy on her shoulders. "Ahsoka...I'm sorry if I insulted you."

Ahsoka rubbed at her arms and shrugged. She did like the Duchess...but that display of anger...well, she had heard rumors that Mandalorians were often Force Sensitive…

She thought of the evening they had spent laughing about Obi-Wan's antics, or being told stories about Qui-Gon Jinn, or even a few things about a young Padmé Naberrie.

It...seemed like a long time ago.

"It's okay," she murmured. "I...messed up."

"We all did." Padmé rubbed Ahsoka's shoulder, then pulled her into a one-sided embrace. "I suppose my own loyalty to Lux's mother made me forget about the larger consequences."

"Mmm...you tend to do that a lot." The Duchess sighed, glancing away for a moment. "Ahsoka...did you hear anything worth noting about Death Watch plans?"

"I...I was a little preoccupied. Ya know, pretending to be engaged and all."

The Duchess gave a snort, wiping at her face.

Padmé squeezed her shoulder. "Why don't you tell everyone we're leaving - say, in eight hours? We'll refuel at the Medical Station."

Ahsoka nodded dejectedly, moving toward the door. She paused, then glanced backwards. "Your Grace - Satine - I am really sorry."

The door swished closed.

"You had no right to - " Padmé began, turning to her friend. She shook her head, trying to quell the urge to vomit - or faint. She still felt ridiculously feverish. "Ahsoka only did what she thought was best."

"Because you encouraged her - she's _Anakin's_ padawan, do you honestly think she thinks things through?"

"You sound an awful like Obi-Wan."

"Yeah?"

"You forget who trained Anakin." Padmé watched her grimace, then stepped forward and put a hand on her arm. "I'm really sorry Satine. I know how much you wanted peace."

* * *

Bail Organa had immense respect for the Jedi Order. They were so kind, so willing to help the Galaxy, so quick the step in during a crisis, so collected during trouble, so insanely uncaring of their own physical well-being.

But he wondered who the hell decided that monks were allowed to lead the war effort.

Monks who were socially awkward, a bit recluse, and powerful enough to destroy half a fleet without twitching an eye.

He knew what they were capable of. He'd seen glimpses of it.

What he had not seen - and hoped he'd never witness again - was Padmé fainting while they stepped down the ramp of the transport in the Neutral Medical Station.

It was a bit of a blur - Mon gasped, Bail stood frozen, Padawan Tano yelled for a medic, the Senatorial Aides stepped back in fear.

The fall looked like it hurt, the way her shoulder appeared to be popped out of socket, her small frame crumpled on the dirty floor.

Captain Typho and Dormé were pushing past them, hurrying to their Senator with an uneasy calm - and Anakin Skywalker was there already, yelling at the clones to cut the medical alarm because something about it would trigger a seizure.

_"Padmé,"_ Anakin murmured without sparing a glance to the gathering crowd of onlookers. "Gregor - move everyone along."

"Copy that sir - come on people, nothing to see here." The Captain clapped his hands like he was herding sheep, glaring at them. "She just has a touch of the flu, she's fine."

"You know how space travel affects her," Anakin hissed to the handmaiden.

Dormé glared at the Hero With No Fear, then to the Senator when she grimaced. "My Lady."

A hand touched Bail's hand. He startled, glancing at a clone - someone under Anakin's command he knew.

"Come with me Senators - I'll lead you to the cafeteria. You can eat while your ships are refueled and prepped."

Bail blinked, glancing at his friend trying to rise and giving a quiet cry of pain, holding her shoulder.

Anakin ran his hands over her shoulder and breast, frowning, not seeming to care that the action was not something a friend would do. "Dislocated - Mé, what hurts worse - head or shoulder?"

"Yes...a meal sounds lovely sir?..."

"Captain Rex," Padawan Tano supplied, seeming to shake her head of the problem. She beckoned to the Senators and easily led the way down the ramp, away from the fallen Senator and her entourage.

Captain Rex fell back while Padawan Tano led them to the cafeteria, chattering about the view from the cafeteria - sometimes, there were polar lights dancing over the stars.

"Senator - General Kenobi would probably appreciate a visit."

"Would he now?" Bail asked, waving away his aides and following the Clone Captain while the entourage went ahead. "I heard only the Media censored version - how is he?"

The Clone Captain chuckled, removing his helmet while they walked and tucking it under his arm. He looked remarkably old for someone who had only been technically born just over a decade ago. But there was a twinkle in his eye, a sort of gentle amusement that few had.

"The General has had his fair share of hits - Skywalker and Kryze are certainly helping him improve." The Clone Captain came to a lift and punched a button. "He's a Jedi, Senator - he's as stubborn and reckless as they come."

Bail thought back to over a decade ago and gave a small smile. "You did not know Master Kenobi when he was a younger man - he gave the Order plenty of heart attacks."

The lift dinged, and they stepped inside. Captain Rex hit '24' and looked at the Senator in bemusement. "He gives the GAR plenty of heart attacks now."

"I imagine so," Bail murmured. They fell into silence, listening to elevator music. It was some Mandalorian artist that had been popular years ago - she'd disappeared shortly after the end of the Mandalorian Civil War.

He shook himself when the door dinged, and followed the Clone Captain down the hall.

The smell of antiseptic made him ill - he'd smelled too much of that over the years with Breha, at every doctors visit and hospital stay.

He associated it too much with grief and loss.

The Clone Captain came to a door covered in removable decals - some of them crude - and punched in a security code.

The door whooshed open.

Bail didn't know what he was anticipating - probably not his friend in a hospital bed, bandages everywhere, beard and hair a mess, looking tired as hell, lazily flicking through channels on an old fashioned television mounted to the wall.

He'd seen Obi-Wan banged up and with a limb in a cast here and there - not this.

Despite the dimness of the room, he could still see the brightness in Obi-Wan's eyes when he glanced over.

"Rex - you brought a tribute."

"Do I get an increased stipend?" Captain Rex muttered, though he was smirking.

Obi-Wan laughed, turning the television on mute.

Bail cracked a smile, stepping inside. He glanced at the screen - a Holo conference the Duches of Mandalore was doing.

"Cody in the office?" Captain Rex asked.

"I believe so."

Captain Rex nodded, looking at Bail. "I'll escort you back to the ship when you're done visiting."

Bail bowed his head. "Thank you Captain."

Captain Rex cocked his head, then looked to Obi-Wan. "Think I could get the me to do that?"

"Probably the shinies."

The low chuckle came from the Clone Captain, and he saluted good naturedly while walking out.

"His brothers usually flip me off," Obi-Wan muttered with a fond smile. He glanced over, his piercing blue eyes a little sad. "Long time no see, old friend."

"Life's a tad busy lately, yes - I was hoping those negotiations would solve the problem."

"Start to solve the problem, as Satine is fond of saying. We still have a way to go before the Galaxy is truly at peace."

Bail raised his eyebrows, finding a chair by the edge of the bed and sitting on it. "She was rather upset when the negotiations failed."

"And Breha was not?" Obi-Wan scratched his beard with a hand covered in a splint and sighed. "Weren't we all upset?"

"I don't know about all of us." Bail thought about the Chancellor, the way he seemed so...calm about the negotiations failing.

Obi-Wan snorted, leaning his head back on his pillows. His uncasted ankle rolled side to side while he spoke - he was never one to be still. "I can only imagine who that would be."

* * *

_Ben: I love you_

* * *

_Ben: Break a leg today_

* * *

_Ben: Anakin told me what happened...I'm so sorry_

_Ben: Do you need to talk about it?_

* * *

_Ben: You did well at your press conferences_

* * *

_Ben: Anakin and Ahsoka left for Coruscant, fyi_

* * *

_Ben: Are you okay?_

_Tina: I'm okay - I'm about to have dinner with Korkie. I'll be at the Medical Station tomorrow by midmorning_

_Tina: I love you_

* * *

Satine walked the halls quietly, listening to her boots clack against the tile floor. She didn't look anyone in the eye, drawing her cloak close and head down. Not like anyone would attempt to talk to her anyways - it was a Medical Station after all.

People were a little preoccupied.

She should have come with the Republic members when they came to days ago to refuel. She desperately wanted too.

But the media needed to be quelled, conferences needed to be completed, her sister needed to be spoken too…

The memory of the conference was still fresh in her mind. The anger in everyone's eyes, the sadness… Satine knew they were approaching a recession. They would be just about the last system in the Galaxy to be in one.

Well, Alderaan and Naboo aren't in a recession...they never have had one in history.

Money was tight for everyone, and her system had already toed the line with the Black Market more than once.

She came to the lift she was supposed to be at and hit the upwards button. It dinged a moment later, and she stepped in.

A hand caught the door before it closed, and a clone stepped in.

"Duchess," he murmured in shock. "I can take the -"

Satine recovered herself and forced a smile. "No need - what floor?"

"36."

"I'm on 24."

The clone gave an uncomfortable smile, shifting to the far end of the lift.

Satine tapped her elbows, grimacing at the jolt of the lift when it began moving. The music had been unnoticeable, but now it was deafening.

_Now that I know what I'm without_

_You can't just leave me_

_Breatheinto me and make me real _

_Bring me to life_

She bit her lip hard, tasting blood.

"I've always liked this song," the clone said suddenly. "Shame the artist didn't release more music.

I wanted too, Satine thought bitterly, staring at the ever increasing numbers.

15\. 16. 17.

"She was Mandalorian based wasn't she? Released everything in Mando'a then Basic?"

Satine nodded, closing her eyes for a moment. "Yeah...she was pretty popular."

_Save me_

_Call my name and save me from the dark_

Satine had a hard time not wincing when she - well, past her - hit an incredibly high note without effort.

22\. 23.

It'd been years since she'd been able to sing like that. Some species hadn't even been able to hear her voice at times, it was so high.

24.

The lift door swooshed open slowly.

Satine nodded to the clone and darted out. She wove through the halls, trying to steel herself.

It'd been over a week since she'd seen Obi-Wan. She'd avoided every call, every message, everything.

She couldn't stand the fact that she had failed bringing peace.

A week was clearly enough time for Obi-Wan to be carefully walking around his small quarters, being supported by one of his clone medics and a nerve regenerator and watched by Master Koon.

She stood in the entrance, watching the pained concentration on Obi-Wan's face, the slow way in which he moved.

A smile tried to make its way to her face... it failed.

Master Koon noticed her first, and nodded in acknowledgement. "Obi-Wan...perhaps you should walk in the corridor?"

"Walk in the - " Obi-Wan turned to look at the Kel Dor master - and looked passed him, a smile breaking over his face when he noticed her. "Do I know you?"

Satine tried to laugh, but it came out more like a sob. She stepped forward, not really caring anymore about what any Jedi saw - they all knew anyways.

Master Koon slipped passed her, squeezing her shoulder. "I am sorry, Your Grace."

She nodded, managing to turn to look at him. "I am sorry - you are doing the fighting….and I do apologise for screaming at the Council like that."

"You screamed at the Council?" Obi-Wan asked in amusement while the medic helped him sit.

Master Koon gave a huff that she realized was a chuckle. "We may be on the front lines - but you, my dear Duchess, are doing the hard work."

She glanced over to Obi-Wan, watching him grimace while the nerve regenerator was shut down and pulled away. "Yeah?"

Master Koon touched her elbow, his voice low. "The Council has become much too intertwined in politics...and I'm afraid the public believes we are more myth than anything."

"Well...maybe if you let people inside every once in awhile things would be different."

Master Koon studied her for a moment, then shook his head and walked out of the room.

She felt her shoulders slump, staring after the Master Jedi.

"Satine?"

Shoving down her emotions, Satine looked at her riddur reclining in an armchair. Huh - the chair was new. She came forward, leaning against the armchair and grasping the hand he offered. "How are you feeling?"

"Like a gundark hit me."

The medic snorted, his face not visible while he put the nerve regenerator away and pulled out medical supplies. "So better, Duchess."

Obi-Wan squeezed her hand, his eyes bright when he looked at her - though the brightness quickly shifted to concern. "Are you okay?"

Satine started to smile, though she found tears coming down her face. She was aware of being coaxed into the chair, strong arms wrapping around her and holding her tightly.

"I'm sorry." Satine buried her face in his tunic, muscles tense and mind heavy. "I'm sorry the war didn't end."

He stroked her hair, giving a heavy sigh. "We'll be okay," he kissed her temple and gave a sigh. "We'll be okay, we'll figure it out."

* * *

Song: "Bring Me to Life by Evanescence

* * *

_Author's note: well hello there_

_Well it wasn't an update within 24 hours, it was still pretty quick ;)_

_To clear anything up - Padmé passed out because A. Space travel aggravates her POTS B. Her shoulder, upon landing on it and because of her larger illness MCTD, was dislocated. I tried to write it from Bail's pov, who has absolutely no idea what's happening._

_Moving on - some say Satine's freak out is OOC - I suggest you look at the episode "Duchess of Mandalore"_

_She acts the same way there too _

_Anyways - enjoy_

_ii Digestive Reader ii_

**Note: I've realized that this fic hasn't gotten many followers, and even fewer comments per chapter.**

**I know people aren't used to having multiple POVs from me, or reading about chronic illness as much as I have been writing about it. The latter is a topic that society has seemed rather taboo in this fandom (despite that 10 to 15% of the world population has some type of invisible disability or chronic illness and your girl is disabled with multiple chronic illnesses and finds it ridiculous but anyways...) **

**Even if you never have commented on a fic of mine, I'd love it if you did. ;) **


	9. To Omit

Chapter Nine: To Omit

* * *

The transport landed at 1am. Ahsoka was sleeping, her head resting against his shoulder. How long had it been since she'd slept through the night? The effects of Zygerria was still weighing on everyone heavily...he hadn't really asked her how she was, what she was going through, what -

Anakin gripped his free hand in his hair, squeezing his eyes and giving a short breath.

"Can you stop thinking?" Ahsoka mumbled while the transport jolted into the Western Jedi Hangar. "It's too loud."

Rex was across from them, raising his eyebrows at the sleepy commandar. "We just landed?"

"What?"

Anakin managed a smile, watching her rub at her eyes and sit straighter.

"How long was I out?"

"We left eight hours ago so." Anakin stood and held out a hand for his padawan. "About seven hours."

"Damn."

"Now what would Master Kenobi say about that language?" Anakin took their bags from beside the Clone Captain, tossing one to Ahsoka and pulling his over a shoulder.

The ramp clunked down.

Ahsoka snorted, hefting her own duffel bag while they walked down the ramp.

"Master Windu - Aayla!" Anakin accepted the embrace from the Twi'lekki knight, holding on a moment longer than was necessary. "What are you doing here?"

Before Aayla could answer, the Master of the Order cleared his throat. "Anakin - your reports of Zygerria were... enlightening."

Anakin glanced between the captain and the padawan when his friend released him, and managed a shrug. "Does the Council wish to discuss it again or - "

"I believe our meeting with Duchess Kryze was meeting enough." Mace cracked a smile in the dim light of the hangar, the lines around his eyes deeper than usual. "Anakin. I would like to discuss your management of the Third Systems Army and the 7th Sky Corps when you have a chance tomorrow - preferably with Commander Cody and you, Captain Rex."

Rex blinked in surprise, though he was quick to nod. "Of course General."

Mace nodded back while casting his gaze on the them. He scoffed, cloak flaring while he turned around. "All of you - get some sleep. You look like shit - and Madame Che wants to examine you all in the morning."

Anakin watched the Master of the Order stride away, into the darkness of the hangar. He looked at his captain. "You okay heading to the barracks?"

Rex shrugged, looking at the transport still idling. "I should be - 'night Generals, 'Soka."

Aayla draped an arm around Ahsoka while they walked towards the entrance. "Want us to walk you to your chambers?"

Ahsoka opened her mouth - probably to say no - then nodded sheepishly. "Just until the elevators?"

"You got it."

Anakin glanced back to where the transport was taking off into the Coruscant air. He couldn't spot the apartment from here, where he longed to be.

But...he couldn't quite face Padmé. Some sleep and a full medical assessment would be better...maybe schedule an appointment at Coruscanti Medical Hospital to replace his Epilepsy implant…

He realized Aayla and Ahsoka were far ahead, palming the door to the hangar open. He jogged to catch up, hair falling in his face when he caught up to them.

* * *

Kit was sleeping when he woke to the apartment door opening and closing. He went through the people who had the key codes, then let his head fall back to the pillow.

There was a burst of energy in the Force, like a thunderclap - Anakin? It disappeared when he heard Aayla say something.

There was a thump, then a muffled snicker.

He was about to rise when the door to the bedchamber whooshed open.

"Dear?"

"Anakin's sleeping on the couch," Aayla murmured.

Kit rolled over, grimacing when he rose and wound up resting an elbow on a tentacle. He shifted, looking at his girlfriend changing into a sleep shirt and shorts. In the dim light his gaze roved over her briefly before he laid back down and rolled back over.

Aayla gave a laugh, clambering over him and squishing herself between him and the wall lined with pillows, as was her tendency. "You're gonna forget this conversation."

"Will not," Kit muttered while he wrapped an arm around her, feeling her tuck her head into his chest. His fingers found a way to the base of her neck, where he massaged the spot her lekku harness dug into her scalp.

Aayla hummed, though he didn't know if it was in amusement or satisfaction.

* * *

It was eerily silent. Too quiet. The sounds of the city-planet wafted through the hum of thousands at the back of his mind.

Kit felt the spot beside him - cold. He lay on his back, stretching out his senses in the apartment.

With a sigh he rose, taking a dressing robe from the wall hook - well, the horns of some fish from his home planet - and shrugged it on.

The small living area was warm - too warm. Warm with emotion and stress and fear.

Exhaustion and terror might have been better words to describe the feelings.

"Anakin," he murmured. "Morning."

The young man offered a half-smile, though it was lost by blood-shot eyes and an ashen face.

"Dear," Aayla murmured from the armchair across from Anakin, "Mind the kettle?"

He nodded, giving Anakin a nod before turning to the kitchen. It was quiet. Horribly quiet. The report from Zygerria hung heavy in his mind.

Everyone read between the lines. Everyone knew in the Council. Everyone in the goddamn Temple would know once the reports were available.

"Sweetener Ken?"

Silence.

"Ana - "

"Whatever you have is fine."

Kit shook his head, putting everything on a platter and finding a small jar of honey. He brought it to the seating area, pouring his own drink before settling at the foot of Aayla's chair.

Anakin poured his tea methodically, stirring two spoonfuls of honey into the drink before taking it in his hands. The cup trembled while he took a sip.

"Butter Tea?"

Aayla nodded, taking a cookie Kit passed her and taking a small bite. "Bought it from a market on the 5000 level - can't miss it, it's on corner G and 5 on the weekends."

"It's good - I'll have to get a few boxes. Maybe some Earl Grey too"

"For your brother?" Aayla asked, her lekku twitching.

"... Padmé too. She can ingest small amounts of caffeine now."

"Essential for these times," Kit murmured before taking a sip.

Anakin snorted, sipping at the tea. "Yeah."

"She's stabilizing then?" Aayla asked softly.

"...maybe. Organ involvement is now only her gastrointestinal tract, mild heart issues - "

"The POTS?"

"Yeah - her," Anakin gestured to his midsection and sighed. "That's not good...she has her menzies back...head's not great...fatigue's pretty bad for her. Migraines, cognitive issues, joints - that hasn't improved much."

"You wouldn't know it looking at her." Kit grimaced when Aayla kneed him in the head.

Anakin glared at him, the Force -

"All he means Anakin is that she is doing a remarkable job at managing this and somehow improving despite the difficulties of living in the public eye." Aayla toed him again in the head. "That's what you meant dear?"

"Yes I did - no need to abuse me."

Anakin sipped at his tea, then shook his head. "How do you two…" He gestured around the room. "This?"

Kit craned his neck at Aayla, who merely sighed. Reaching behind him, he rubbed at her shin, one hand still grasping his tea. "If you're asking how we manage a relationship...well Anakin...we are Jedi. We had years of friendship before this ever happened."

"Well friendship - " Aayla moved her foot away before he could drag his fingers over it in retaliation, giving a huff of laughter. "Some might say you preyed on an innocent young woman."

"You were far above consenting age - twenty-two - when I took notice dear one. Didn't help that a certain people pushed us together."

"Quinlan?" Anakin asked knowingly.

"Well yes - Master Tholme too. Pretty much everyone in our little group. Made us do night-watch together on a mission and well…" Aayla shrugged, reaching out and stroking one his tentacles. "Things happened."

"I suspect Obi-Wan wasn't involved?"

Aayla gave a hard snort.

Kit smiled a little sadly. "Do not blame him Anakin - he's been through much. He uses drink to cope - Qui-Gon did much the same. We learn from those we are around growing up."

"I just...thought better of him. Thought…" Anakin shrugged, thinking how Satine was pregnant, the tension between the pair, the sadness in Obi-Wan's eyes lately. "Don't exactly want to end up like him."

"...may I be blunt Anakin?" Aayla asked.

"Aren't you always?"

Aayla finished her cookie, then leaned her head against her palm. "You need professional help - "

"The Order won't pay for - "

"Anakin - "

"Let her speak Anakin."

Anakin set his tea on the table, sighing heavily while he leaned forward, staring at the floor. "Fine."

Aayla straightened, prompting Kit to shift and allow her to make her way to Anakin. "You need a professional Anakin," she looped an arm around Anakin's shoulders while she sat beside him. "You need to talk to someone - someone not in the Order. This Zygerria shit - _everything_ \- it will eat you, eat your marriage, eat everything inside of you."

"I...I use antidepressants."

"As needed - Anakin, t_hat's _how Kit and I haven't dissolved yet. Counseling - individually, together - that's how we stay sane. Medication too, for both of us."

"...Obi-Wan - "

"Obi-Wan can fuck himself, for all I care. He's doing the same thing Qui-Gon did - you do not need to be down that same path." Aayla let her hand fall and glanced at Kit. "Sorry if I - "

"You only spoke the truth about Qui-Gon, dear one - no matter how hard it is to hear." Kit studied Anakin, the young man who had been through far too much. He's always liked Anakin, ever since he appeared beside Qui-Gon, scared but hilariously devoted to making the Galaxy better. "Anakin...I will be the first to admit that the Council needs a change. But that change? It starts with you - you and Aayla's generation, whom acknowledge that emotion isn't weakness. It's strength."

Anakin sighed, staring at the floor before shaking his head. "The Jedi won't pay for a therapist - heck, they wouldn't pay for my epilepsy implant while I was growing up."

"The stipend covers our medication…"

Kit furrowed his brow, thinking how as a Council member, his stipend was much, much larger than a knight of Anakin's rank. "Aayla...you do freelance writing - that covers the therapy, not the stipend."

"Padmé doesn't have insur - "

Anakin gave a snort. "Remember when the Republic decided that everyone had to pay for medical care costs on their own, or they'd have to pay for federal healthcare costs?"

"...yeah."

"The Republic doesn't cover pre-existing conditions like Padmé's or mine," he held up his hand when Aayla opened her mouth. "Naboo uses the Republic's Insurance - and there's very few private insurers that we could use…it's too dangerous. It's not a good idea to use any of them - the threat of Padmé's medical information getting leaked is too high."

"Meaning you're paying for everything...out of pocket?" Kit whispered. "That has to cost a fortune."

"We're nearly a million credits in debt," Anakin murmured, putting his head in hands and twisting his fingers through his hair. "I keep trying to convince my brother to come to Coruscant - it'd be cheaper, for him to be here instead of attempting to keep the farm running."

* * *

He'd been on planet for three days.

Did it make him a terrible husband that he hadn't even messaged his wife? In his defense, he'd been busy.

_Gods, _how did Obi-Wan manage such a schedule? For the first time in a long while, he was thankful he wasn't on the Council. He wasn't sure if he could handle the additional stress of _that._

Anakin grimaced, keeping his head low while he rode the transit. It was the middle of the morning commute, nearly 8am. He had opted against wearing his Jedi robes, instead wearing a sweatshirt with the Jedi Order symbol on it and a pair of black slacks. Few would look into his face, especially since he had the hood drawn over his head and eyes on the floor.

He felt the transit jolt and glanced upwards, scanning the area while passengers disembarked. _One more stop, _he sighed while readjusting his grip on the above-handle.

Piloting was _not _something he thought was a good idea, not until he actually made that appointment. He'd been behind the wheel when a seizure struck before - thank goodness R2 had been, if not…

Several sentients boarded while he pondered, swiping cards and dropping credits into the needed slots. He saw one sentient shift his cloak and the driver nod - Jedi custom. Any transit worker on Core worlds gave free transport to Jedi if they saw that signal.

He hated it. Jedi had stipends for a reason, they could spare three credits to the underpaid public workers.

"Anakin?"

The voice was quiet but firm.

Anakin glanced upwards and had to physically stop himself from his mouth dropping open. "Ferus?"

Ferus Olin cracked a grin, looking him up and down while the transit jolted forward again. "Don't want to be seen?"

"Why are you carrying your lightsaber?" Anakin hissed, taking in the cloak - not Jedi issue - and frowned. "Don't you make enough money to have to get a taxi?"

"The transit goes places most upper level taxis won't." Ferus shrugged, scratching at his chin before grabbing a handlebar above. His wedding ring gleamed. "I have business in the lower levels - besides, you really think I don't carry my lightsaber? These are dangerous times for everyone."

Anakin turned his head, realizing they were nearing Senate building. He yanked on the destination cord beside the handle.

The transit began to jolt to a stop.

"It was good to - "

"Anakin." Ferus held his shoulder. "Tell Obi-Wan I wish him well - and the Duchess too."

"...yeah, I will…" Anakin knew he had to be leaving, though he lingered a moment longer. "You should contact Bant sometime - you know how she loves to have everyone for dinner."

"Only if you cook - I don't trust anyone else in that Order with a stove."

Anakin grinned before slipping through the throngs of people and into the street. He wove between the crowds, intent on the side entrance of the Senate building.

Few realized how many public entrances the Senate had - and he preferred to keep it that way. He slipped inside with little fanfare, completely ignored by Senators and aides coming out doors. With a small smile he went to an elevator, swiping the security card that Padmé have given him long ago.

It slid open easily. He stepped in, punching the needed floor. The elevator whooshed upwards before he could really think - that was one good thing about Coruscant. Public buildings frequented by politicians were in pristine conditions.

He tugged the hood down while the door opened a few moments later, stepping into the flurry of activity that was the Nubian Embassy. A few recognized him and nodded, though they hurried to their tasks.

"Sir I'm afraid you can't - "

Anakin turned his head, raising his eyebrows. "What Gregor?"

The Captain sighed, coming forward and lowering his voice. "One of these days, sir, it's gonna be a shapeshifter instead of you."

Anakin snorted, trying to wave away the anxiety that _that _could very well happen. "Mé busy?"

* * *

Padmé was seated on her office sofa when the door to her office whooshed open, then grinned. "Ani!"

Anakin grinned, bowing jokingly. "At my lady's service."

"Oh really?" Padmé set the datapad on the floor, watching him come to the sofa and lean down. She smiled, tilting her head and receiving his kiss. It was a stronger kiss than on the Medical Station, not hesitant or short.

His hand drifted downwards, to where her arm was still in a sling. Fingers ghosting it gently, he looked at her curiously. "Shoulder sill hurts?"

"I dislocated it Ani - you were there, you popped it back into place." Padmé smoothed her free hand over his jaw and smiled. "Few more days probably, then I'll be okay."

A smile managed to cross his face, and he sat down heavily. Studying him for a moment, his relaxed posture and closed eyes, she moved close and curled into his side.

Anakin tensed for half a second before relaxing. He wrapped an arm around her, head resting on her hair.

"How's Ahsoka?"

"Better."

"Obi-Wan?"

"Probably having making love in a hospital bed."

Padmé snorted, twining her fingers with his cybernetic hand. It was cool to the touch - he didn't often wear a glove when he was in civilian clothing - it drew too much attention.

They stayed in that position for awhile, listening to each other breathe and watching the Coruscanti skyline. It was incredibly rare they had a moment like this, this quiet.

She was tempted to ask about Zygerria. She really was. She'd read the reports, just as everyone else had in the Senate.

But she'd seen how badly it had affected him... probably still was -

Anakin was dragging a hand through her loose curls, humming a little under his breath. He cracked open his eyes when she touched his jaw, then smiled a little. Without hesitation he bent his neck, kissing her a little sloppily and quite fiercely.

She grimaced at the uncomfortable position of her neck while he deepened it, but didn't attempt to -

A squeak left her when she was pulled into his lap. Anakin pulled back, searching her eyes and biting his lip. "Did I hurt - "

"Nope." Padmé went back to the kiss, fingers threading through his thick hair. She could feel his hands on her hips, holding her tightly. Rough _anything _didn't happen much lately.

Anakin sucked in a breath when her hand slid to his chest. He covered her hand, stilling it.

She raised her eyebrows, then put her head on his shoulders when he began to push his organic hand under her layers of skirts. A shaky sigh escaped her when his fingers met warm skin.

Anakin pressed a kiss to her neck, giving a small smile while her fingers tugged at his hair and she gave a moan.

Asking if he was okay wasn't on her mind.

* * *

_Author's note: the fact that Anakin and Aayla are friends makes me super happy. Like yes, she would know everything (and in my opinion, maybe knew Anakin better than Obi-Wan but shhh) _

_Also - Kit and Aayla are pretty high up there otp wise...Bly and Aayla aren't bad too, don't hurt me guys. _

_I love the headcanon that Mace is a secret softie but is still so, so blunt._

_Now two questions: _

_1\. Who thinks Anakin is healing, or is ignoring his trauma by having sex with Padmé? Thoughts? A little of both? I'd love to hear your thoughts. :) _

_2\. If I get - let's say 5 comments on this chapters - I'll post a one shot about Satine and her less than savory thoughts about Obi-Wan, inspired by a few songs I love. ;)_

_ii Digestive Reader ii _


	10. Living Commodities

Chapter Ten: Living Commodities

* * *

"What are you doing on the floor?"

Padmé lowered the datapad from her eyes and smiled at her husband whom was looming over her. She blinked, readjusting her feet propped on the couch. "I felt dizzy - "

"Her blood pressure is at 138 over 89!"

Anakin glanced at C-3PO while he waddled into the living room, then at his wife. "Really?"

"Master Ani, blood pressure that low is considered prehypertension, which is a serious health - "

"You're dismissed, 3PO." Padmé had to smile while the droid huffed and waddled away, muttering all the while "Humans. Well, I never…"

Anakin shook his head, not untucking his hands from behind his back. "High blood pressure?"

"Just the POTS." Padmé shrugged, putting the datapad beside her. She tried to focus on him, though she saw double of everything. "What are you hiding - oh my goodness, those are beautiful."

Anakin grinned while he sat down carefully beside her, holding the bouquet of lilies in his hands. "Thought you might like them."

"You thought right." She reached out a hand, stroking one of the lilies. It felt like velvet beneath her skin. "How?..."

"The entry level Botany class was handing out bouquets at the Temple," he offered. "I took one."

Padmé raised her eyebrows. "For a society that frowns on attachments - surely they understand the significance of a bouquet of flowers."

"Maybe. Probably not." Anakin put the bouquet on the couch and reached out a hand, pushing hair away from her brow. He swallowed a bit at feeling the heat of her skin. "Garen bought a rose for Kit, dipped kissed him in front of Mace - Aayla chased him around the classrooms screaming. Haven't seen the padawans laugh that hard in awhile."

She giggled, clasping his hand to her chest. Anakin smiled at her, feeling her heart pound hard against her ribs.

"Your heart's pounding like our wedding night."

Padmé rolled her eyes. "I wasn't the maid."

"Hey now - I'm pretty sure the Shaak herd saw a few things they shouldn't have before we went to Tatooine."

"Mmm." She squeezed his flesh hand, eyes closing a moment. "How was your day, besides Garen being…Garen?"

Anakin sighed, stroking her fingers before untangling their fingers and deciding to lay down on the plush carpet. Their bodies were in facing in different directions, though their heads were aligned. He had to tuck his knees to avoid hitting the couch on the other side.

"My day, my day. Do I have to talk about it?"

Padmé turned her head, not surprised to find his brilliant blue eyes only centimeters from hers. "I'll talk about mine then - there were meetings from 8am to 1pm - mostly convincing various Senators they didn't need to have clone troopers or Jedi protectors on their vacations with them while they're people starve."

"Lovely."

"Then I had lunch with Bail - he was still shaken up about my fall at the Medical Station - "

"Did you tell him? I know we agreed to tell as few people as possible but - "

Padmé reached her hand out, stroking his cheek. "I told him. He was confused, but I trust him." She managed a smile, though it was hard remembering the shock on her friend's face, the absolute horror, the _sympathy. _"But of all people, I trust him. He has stood by Breha's side through all her health problems and miscarriages - I hardly doubt he'll make a big fuss once the shock wears off."

"Hopefully," Anakin grumbled, leaning into his wife's touch. "Beru still doesn't quite understand."

She smiled, continuing to stroke his cheek. "The Senate didn't meet today - I took the rest of the day off, and was reading through bills when you came - "

"Sir?"

Anakin propped himself on his elbow, looking towards the voice. "Yeah Teckla?"

The handmaiden bowed her head timidly, not quite looking at him while she spoke, but rather passed his head. "Do you wish to cook tonight, or should I have the servants start a meal?"

He glanced at his wife, then grinned at the raise of her eyebrows. "Order enough food from Dex's for the household - you can make your own meal if you don't want that."

Teckla blinked, though she was quick to bow her head and hurry off.

"We can't afford feeding everyone." Padmé hummed when he rolled onto his side and pressed a kiss to her lips. "What is going on?"

"The stipend as acting general of the Third Systems Army is four times the amount as mine is as knight and general of the 501st and primary engineer of the Republic fleet."

Padmé gasped, covering her mouth and staring at him. "You're... you're only paid twelve-hundred credits once a month…"

Anakin kissed her again. "Six thousand credits. Every two weeks. In total I'll have four payments over the course of eight weeks. Times twelve-hundred twice - twenty-six thousand credits."

"Oh...my God."

"Mace will increase my regular stipend by one thousand if I do well these next few weeks - and with your wage - we might be able to afford to make payments a little easier, using your wage to for medical costs and house expenses."

Padmé couldn't help but laugh, pulling her feet from where they rested on the couch and moving to face her husband. Ignoring her heart pounding and the black spots dancing in her eyes and her ever-aching joints, she straddled him and pressed a fierce kiss to his lips. Her skirts bunched up, knees scraping the carpet - but she didn't care, kissing him with no abandon because this was the best news they had gotten in a long while.

* * *

"Long evening?"

Bant glanced up from scrubbing her hands down, then gave a smile. "Emergency appendicitis on a padawan - that's about it."

Madame Che grimaced, sipping at her caf while she leaned against the doorframe. "We really should make it standard to have that removed before people leave for missions."

"It does have a legitimate role in some species immune system." Bant turned the tap off and reached for a pile of paper towels. She left her fingers a little damp - she _was _Mon Calamari after all. "Besides, I doubt Yoda would approve."

"He already convinces people they don't need anti-depressants," Madame Che muttered. "Inhibits the Light Side my ass - I swear, half the people who have touched the Dark Side in the past thirty years really just needed some counseling."

Bant laughed, surveying the room and double-checking everything was sanitary before stepping out, the head healer at her heels. "Speaking of someone who needs anti-depressants - Obi-Wan is coming back within the next hour."

"I heard - oh Bant, I made the padawans do rounds." Madame Che led her to her office and sat at her desk chair. The office was cluttered with old textbooks and piles of flimsi and Holos of old friends and her degrees from various universities across the Galaxy. "Want to do his exam?"

Bant shrugged, sitting down at the spare chair. "I doubt it'll be much different than what the medics at the station have recorded. But the Council _is _allowing him a two week medical leave after he stays on Coruscant tomorrow."

Madame Che had powered on her computer and smiled grimly. "Two weeks...that man needs more than two weeks to recover from all the shit life's thrown at him."

She hummed in agreement. "Do you think he'll stay on Coruscant?"

"Do _you _think he'll stay on Coruscant?"

Bant sighed, turning her head away. She knew how happy the Duchess made her friend...but she _knew _how upset he'd been every time they had broken up a decade ago.

Granted it was a _decade _ago, and Obi-Wan had been through so much. He deserved a little happiness - even if that happiness was a shouty, angry Mandalorian that drank too much and would probably fight a traffic light.

She shook her head, fingers tapping on the table before she stood. "I'll wait outside for the transport."

Madame Che nodded, absorbed in whatever she was reading.

The Healing Halls were quiet while Bant passed through, hearing her boots clicking against the tile. Being here was a nice change from the battlefield - she wished the Council would approve her request to stay on Coruscant permanently already. She didn't want to leave for Kashyyyk next week.

She peeked into the room that held the padawan she'd just operated on, smiling when she saw their master sleeping on the floor beside the bed, using a pillow and his cloak as bedding. The machines beeped slowly and steadily, providing fluids and reads of vitals every second.

Say what the Council would about attachment - it certainly wasn't a bad thing all the time.

Reaching the entrance to the Healing Halls, Bant pulled a cloak from a peg. She shrugged it on, then palmed the door while grabbing a wheelchair from the corner and unfolding it.

The door hissed open smoothly. Bant breathed in the smell of medicinal herbs growing in patches outside the Halls while she pushed the empty wheelchair down the corridor that led to the Healing Halls landing platform.

"Master Yoda," she murmured while she neared the door. "What are you doing here?"

"Cannot welcome home my grand-grand padawan hmm?" The Grandmaster of the Order chuckled, reaching upwards with his cane and slamming the open button. He scowled when an angry beep responded, hitting it again.

"It's thumb read, Master." Bant left the wheelchair at the doors entrance and leaned over, pressing her webbed thumb against the button. It dinged, a green light flashing overhead while the door whooshed open.

_"Thank you, Madame Eerin."_

Yoda huffed, waddling after her and into the chilly Coruscant evening. "Stupid, machines are," he muttered. "Too tall, they are."

Bant did her best not to roll her eyes, parking the wheelchair and locking it. "I'll speak to maintenance, if it bothers you so Master Yoda."

The old troll peered at her, frowning more deeply. "Like me, you never have."

"When did you come to that preposterous conclusion Master Yoda?"

The sound of a ship suddenly cut out the consistent noises of Coruscant's traffic. She glanced upwards, smiling upon eyeing the medical transport. Despite her anger at the Council for continuing to send Obi-Wan on dangerous assignments, she _was _glad that her friend was alive.

The transport took it's time landing, engines whirring while the pilot put it in park. The ramp clunked down moments later.

Obi-Wan emerged slowly, using his Commander as support. His beard was shaggy, his wrists in braces, his eyes bloodshot, his stature stooped, and face twisted in pain.

"Wow you look like shit," Bant murmured while Obi-Wan stepped away from his commander slowly but steadily.

Obi-Wan pulled a wry grin, glancing towards the transport when it took off. "Thank you Bant," he noticed Grandmaster and gave a nod. "Master Yoda - it's been awhile."

Yoda stared at him, then glanced at Bant. "Like sad bantha, he look like. Scruffy."

Bant couldn't help but chuckle at her friend's bewildered look. She stepped close and wrapped an arm around him - _my God he's frail. _"Come on - you need an exam."

They were about to pass Yoda when he spoke.

"Master Kenobi - a moment." He leaned against his cane, smiling grimly. "Sent you Zygerria, maybe we should not have. An apology, I give - myself and the Council."

Bant tensed, hating - yes hating, she wanted to point that green troll across a battlefield sometimes - the words from him. She knew her friend wouldn't look at her.

Obi-Wan bowed his head. "It is my duty as a Jedi, Master Yoda."

Yoda grinned, giving a little wiggle while he spun on his heel and tottered away, into the Temple that worshiped him.

Bant squeezed his hand, staring after the Grandmaster. "You should have heard Aayla when Ahsoka and Anakin came back next week - you could hear her and Yoda arguing about the whole mission outside the Healing Halls for at _least _three hours."

"Three hours?"

"Mm hmm." She gestured for them to start walking towards the wheelchair. "Even Kit and Master Windu couldn't calm them down - it was nuts."

Obi-Wan grimaced while she helped him into the chair.

"The medics at the Station give you anything for the pain?"

"The names of the medications they used should be in the files they sent over - was Aayla really that angry?"

Bant sighed, kneeling before her long time friend. "Obi-Wan...Aayla isn't the only one furious with how the Council is treating _everyone, _not just you. Like we're living commodities. Slaves. I say it's a miracle that you're given a medical leave, or that Anakin is allowed to live out of the Temple."

"The Council…" Obi-Wan swallowed, the lights of Coruscant's traffic reflecting on his pale face. "Bant... don't make me argue. Please."

* * *

"What do you think that new musical? The one about the ancient Jedi and the Mandalorians?"

"I'm _not _talking about that in the halls where everyone can hear."

"Oh you're no fun." Depa grinned at the sigh she received, tucking her hand in the crook of her old master's arm. "No one will know what we're talking about."

Mace rolled his eyes, though he didn't remove her hand while they walked towards the Council Chambers. He'd gotten used to her need for touch over the years, and simply patted her hand despite his annoyance.

"You should spar with Caleb again - he enjoyed getting his butt kicked."

"Still cannot believe _Ahsoka Tano _beat me," he muttered while they began to climb the stairs.

Depa shrugged, trailing one hand over the railing before picking up her skirts. "Anakin's one of the best swordsmen we have - Aayla and Kit train with her a lot too. Obi-Wan's lightsaber technique has improved drastically since he was a padawan, if you recall."

"His lightsaber technique." Mace shook his head while they finished one fleet of stairs and started the second. "If he could his lightsaber under control that would be nice - I wouldn't have to deal with an angry Duchess so much."

"Mace Windu? Making a sex joke? While I never!" Depa snickered, finally hearing him chuckle a little. They continued on in silence, finishing the fleet of stairs and walking down the long hall that led to the Council Chambers.

"Skywalker mentioned something about the Temple being pretty inaccessible," Mace murmured when they saw Obi-Wan stepping out of the lift far ahead of them and hobble slowly towards the doors.

"Well Anakin _does _have epilepsy - I imagine - "

_"What?" _

Depa raised her eyebrows, then stopped walking and faced her old master. "You didn't...know that? He went into seizures right in front of you as a padawan!"

"Was he ever convulsing?"

"I don't think he has that type of epilepsy... it's more of a zoning out or twitching things like fingers or - "

"Fuck." Mace scrubbed a hand over his bald head, keeping his voice low. "How come I didn't know this?"

"I don't know - Madame Che wasn't exactly quiet about it. The Council never paid for any of his medication, that much I know."

Mace sighed heavily and grimaced, shaking his head before turning on his feel and marching into the Chambers.

Depa was at his heels, shaking her head in disbelief.

"_I appreciate the sentiment, Master Plo,"_ she heard Obi-Wan saying, _"but I am much looking forward to my meditative leave tomorrow."_

"Heading anywhere interesting?" Depa asked, pushing the conversation with her master out of her mind. She knew the answer of course - but it fun to watch Obi-Wan squirm. "Off planet, perhaps?"

"Depa…" Mace muttered in exasperation while he sat. "Now is not the time."

"What? I have over two years to catch up on, Master Windu."

"How are you feeling Depa?" Obi-Wan asked, shifting in his seat slightly. He did his best to withhold a grimace, though it was still there.

"Better than you, probably - but a padawan - I almost want to back in a coma."

"Caleb is a nice kid - Ahsoka speaks fondly of him."

"How is Ahsoka? I imagine being Anakin and yours padawan - "

"She's Anakin's padawan - "

Plo Koon turned his head away, shoulders shaking silently while he laughed.

"Yep. Sure. Garen owes me ten credits, thought you wouldn't say that."

"Didn't I teach you anything about gambling?" Mace grumbled while the Council chamber filled.

"Don't do it around Qui-Gon Jinn?" Kit Fisto murmured while he walked in, earning a chuckle from those already seated.

They chatted for awhile, the conversation becoming more like small talk while the Council room filled. Not everyone was there, but most were. The conversation dwindled when Master Yoda stumbled in, meeting everyone's eyes.

"Shall we be - " Mace started.

"Yes yes." Master Yoda scrambled onto his seat and plucked his but down. "Begin, you may."

Depa exchanged glances with Adi Gallia while the lights dimmed. The older woman was picking at her sleeves.

Mace cleared his throat. "We received this message from Quinlan Vos yesterday morning."

A hologram of Quinlan Vos flickered in the center of the room. He had shaven his dreadlocks, and was dressed in a style that indicated he was somewhere in the Tatooine system. "_Masters - I was right. Cad Bane is planning an attack on the Chancellor - it's gonna happen soon, sooner than anticipated. Word has it he wants to hire a bounty hunter to do the job - someone who's on Coruscant, who knows their way around Core and Mid-Rim worlds well. Attached is a list of possible people he is considering - I've narrowed it down to ten people, maybe eleven if you want to count Jango Fett of all people."_

Out of the corner of her eye, she watched Obi-Wan frown and lean forward.

"_This is an inside job Masters - you'll need someone who's a good shot, who knows how to sway people with only words, who doesn't mind being undercover for long periods of time...maybe someone who is willing to undergo some transformation shit or whatever the hell you do. I'd suggest Aayla but I'd probably get punched in the face._

The hologram of Quinlan glanced behind him, then saluted at the camera.

The feed cut.

The lights came back on to halfway.

Silence.

One could hear - and only hear - the roar of traffic outside.

Obi-Wan looked around the Council chamber, watching everyone glance away from him

Mace grimaced, staring at the floor before nodding slowly in answer.

"Oh my God," Depa whispered in disgust. She knew about the mission...she didn't realize they were choosing _Obi-Wan Kenobi. _Who could barely walk. Who loved his padawans like his own children. Who had a lover that was practically a wife. Who had far more responsibly than most generals, that led a _tenth _of the army and part of the navy.

"Unbelievable," Adi Gallia snarled. "He broke half the bones in his body two weeks ago and - "

"Master Gallia," Yoda murmured, jerking his head back when she glared at him. He was not used to _anyone _talking back to him.

"You have a marksman aim, Master Kenobi," Master Ki-Adi-Mundi said softly. Of course _he _didn't get chosen - the man had a family and was protector to a powerful system. "This type of mission is one of great importance - your favorite."

Kit Fisto didn't say anything when everyone looked at him, merely giving a shrug. He was never one to fight back.

"This is bantha shit!" Depa spat, fingernails digging into her seat. "Who the fuck decided this was okay?"

"Oh hush," Agent Kolar snapped before wincing when Mace glared at him.

_"Don't _chastise my padawan."

"But you'll send someone elses padawan to war?" Adi muttered. "You're disgusting."

Shaak Ti shook her head. "I'd say it was the Jedi way but this is absurd."

"I don't agree either," Kit muttered. "It's inhumane."

The voices rose, becoming angry and overlapping. Even Yoda joined in, muttering and huffing and generally bewildered that not everyone was following his grand schemes.

Obi-Wan was quiet when he spoke, but it silenced the Council Chambers. He tried to smile, though he looked close to tears. "Do I have any say in this? Do I have any say in how this affects me? How do you even know I can complete this mission?"

Yoda slammed his cane on his chair. "Take Rako Hardeen's face, you will. Complete this mission, you should, for the good of the Order."

"Good of the Order?" Adi Gallia interjected. "This Order has become obsessed with petty politics."

"Says the diplomat," Agen Kolar sneered.

"I beg your pardon?"

Yoda dragged a hand over his face, then shook his head and shimmied from his chair. It was quiet while he stumbled out, his cane smacking a little too forcefully on tile.

The doors remained opened - a quiet signal for everyone to leave.

Meeting adjourned.

Depa was about to stride out in a huff, then glanced back. She watched her childhood friend hang his head, sighing heavily. She stood beside the entrance, waiting.

Obi-Wan dragged a hand over his face, an old habit the Order hadn't managed to beat out of him.

Mace stayed too, standing and walking to the window to watch the traffic.

"Kenobi."

Obi-Wan jumped and glanced over. "Master Windu...is there a meeting scheduled in here - I can - "

"Obi-Wan - please, how long will it take for you to be on first name basis with you?"

"Old habits are hard to break."

"Indeed they are." Mace turned from where he was standing at the window. He noticed Depa watching, though he didn't say anything besides offer a strained smile to her friend. "Depa still puts salt in my caf when I'm not looking."

Depa smiled at that, then nodded to her master and walked out of the chamber. This was not a conversation she needed to hear.

* * *

_Author's note: do I not like Yoda very much? No, not really. I apologise to those who I offended (cause I always seem to offend people when I talk about Yoda negatively._

_But anyways - enjoy the rehashing of Chapter 45 of "Secrets of the Negotiator" - from others pov. Ooooh ;)_

_We're fast approaching what was the end of the last fic and moving forward. I should explain that the fic that I wrote, "Cyar'ika Jett'i" I took down because A. I wrote that going through some extremely stressful times and I feel like it didn't reflect my writing B. The plot of the "Secrets" universe had developed in a way where I felt it couldn't stay up. Don't worry - most scenes from that fic will appear in this one - with some tweaking and plot changes ;)_

_There will still be plenty of pain and suffering. _

_Oh - how about six comments and I'll have an update for "Once Upon a Song" by the end of the week? ;)_

_With love_

_ii Digestive Reader ii_


	11. May the Force Be With Us

Chapter Eleven: May the Force Be With Us

* * *

Note: Some scenes are similar to "Chapter Forty-Six: May the Force Be With Us" of "Secrets of the Negotiator"

* * *

Anakin woke to vomiting. He blinked a few times, the dark shapes of the bedroom gradually becoming clearly. Home. He was home, not on a battlefield or in Obi-Wan's Temple apartment.

It wasn't Obi-Wan vomiting because he was wasted it was -

Grimacing, Anakin pushed away the duvet and stood, listening to his joints pop. Damn it, he was only twenty and he felt like an old man upon waking every morning.

Taking his robe from the ottoman, Anakin shuffled to the 'fresher and pushed the door open a little. "Angel?"

Padmé - leaning back from the sani bowl - gave him a weak smile, wiping her mouth. In the dim light sweat shone on her skin. "Sorry."

"For?" Anakin asked, kneeling down and tucking a bit of hair behind her ear. "God, you're burning up."

"You were so tired last night - I didn't mean to wake you."

He attempted a smile, though it faded when she pitched forward again and retched. Without much fanfare he held her hair back, wincing while she shook and dry-heaved.

"Done?" Anakin asked when she groaned, leaning her brow against the rim. He meant it to be humorous, but the attempt was lost at the small sniff.

"I hate this."

"Master Yoda would tell you your hate is unfounded."

That got a snort out of her. Carefully, he eased her into his side, taking the hairtie from her wrist and wrapping it in a loose knot. A soft sigh escaped his lips when a clump of hair fell into his fingers.

"It's been happening," Padmé murmured, leaning her head into his shoulder and sighing. She didn't react much when he rolled it into a ball and let it drop to the floor. "Lucky me, that Nubians wear wigs."

Anakin felt the back of her neck, frowning at the sweat and warmth he felt on her skin.

"Think the Chancellor ever wore wigs?" Padme whispered.

"That's worse than imagining Mace Windu with a full head of hair."

"I've heard rumors that Mace was quite the catch in - "

"Stop stop stop. I don't need that image in my head when I'm at the Temple."

"You could just look at old holomags and - "

"Padmé," Anakin groaned, leaning his head back against the counter.

Padmé elbowed him in the ribs, giving a giggle.

He smiled, reaching out and stroking her cheekbone. "Please tell me you don't have work today."

"Life doesn't stop when you're sick Ani." Padmé gave a shiver, and batted his hands away when she made to stand. She swayed a bit, leaning against the counter for a moment and closing her eyes and grimacing. "Oh goddesses…"

"Padmé - "

"My first meeting isn't until 11 Ani - and it's with Bail. I hardly doubt he'll judge me for not being completely well. Besides, all my meetings are in my office today...Dormé made sure of that."

"What about a Senate session? Or an emergency?" Anakin rolled his eyes when she didn't respond, and gave a breath of frustration. "Padmé, you're _sick. _You need to be healing, not galavanting - "

"Galavanting?" Padmé snarled, glaring at him in the mirror. From his angle he was able to witness the purple half-moons under her eyes, the gauntness of her cheeks. "I'm not the one whose always galavanting around the galaxy chasing after Sith lords and knocking down battle droids."

"You're nearly assassinated every two weeks."

"_Nearly." _Padmé shook her head, loosening her white-knuckles from the sink. She was quiet for a moment, breathing heavily through her nose. "Ani...just...God."

Anakin stared at her for a moment, opening his mouth to continue to fight before shutting it. Without a word he rose, stepping over to her and brushing a kiss to her temple. "I'll run the shower...take something for the fever?."

Padmé swallowed, rubbing a hand over her eyes. "You're leaving for the Temple?"

"Barracks, within the hour - we have a batch of shinies... Ahsoka and I need to brief them."

"Tell Ahsoka I said hi."

Anakin gave a rough laugh, bending enough to press a kiss to the side of her mouth.

* * *

"He's probably hotter in person."

"Jate o'r haav?"

Satine choked on her tea, spluttering while her sisters laughed. "That's luubid - give me the mag."

Kristen cackled, hopping from the bed and prancing away while her sisters giggled.

Satine groaned, slumping in her mound of pillows.

"God - ibac beard cuyir dashing - does bic hurt vurel?"

"Give me the mag Kris!"

Patricia - a little thick around the middle and twelve years younger than Satine - gave a snort from the edge of the bed. "I don't understand you two and your fascination for men."

Kristen tossed the mag back to Satine and plopped back onto the bed, sprawling over the duvet. "That's because you are a helpless lesbian."

Patricia, sitting beside Satine on the bed, tossed her curly blonde hair over one shoulder and began to braid it. "Kris - that's a little rude."

"I'm older - nutennir laam."

"Technically Satine is the oldest."

"Richard was the oldest, he's just dead."

Satine rolled her eyes. "Pat, Kris - you two don't even remember Richard."

"And?" they choursed in unison.

Satine pressed her lips together, sipping at her tea. She has missed this - her sisters around her, teasing and bickering. Age gaps and status aside, it was nice to cram into a bedroom at the Kryze palace on Mandalore and enjoy each other's company, waiting for the system to celebrate The Festival of Te Taylir Mand'alor.

As silence enveloped them, they all became dreadfully aware of the absence of Bo-Katan.

Kristen scratched at her hand, wedding band twinkling in the dim light. "I should probably see if Kevin has escaped our uncles," she muttered without moving.

"You're such a caring wife," Patricia muttered.

"Pat you literally left Kendra-Anne puking from space travel," Satine murmured while she sipped her tea.

The sisters glanced at each other, then at her. Satine shifted, glancing at the window - she knew their question.

"Don't gar t'ad."

Patricia rolled her eyes. "You've thrown up how many times since getting here yesterday?"

"And you can't tolerate any sort of smell?" Kris rolled onto her stomach and raised her eyebrows. "Look - I've been pregnant a few times Tina and - "

_"Don't." _Satine looked at her sisters, trying not to cry. "Don't. Gedet'ye. Please. I can't be pregnant, not now. I can't entertain the thought - Obi and I just became more stable... we're putting the past behind us, he's healing from his wounds - we're fighting an intergalactic war and - "

"Why do you always pull shit like this?" Patricia hissed at Kristen while pulling Satine into her side. "Hey - we won't bring it up again."

"You should at least talk to your Jetti before it's too late. Bastards aren't well liked on - "

"Leonardo knows that well enough, yes I know." Satine wiped at her eyes, thinking of their older bastard brother. "He carries our name, at least."

She pushed her sister away, making to stand and gritting her teeth at the dizziness that swarmed against her. "I need to leave. Obi-Wan should be coming in soon. I'd like to greet him - and have my room empty by the time we come back."

Patricia and Kristen glanced at each other, then nodded. They both kissed Satine goodnight before leaving the bedchamber.

Satine strode into the small living room while the door swooshed shut, pushing the conversation of children and pregnancy out of her head. There was no time for that. Not now. She took a cloak from the rack - Obi-Wan's cloak, actually. The man lost so many she doubted he missed this one. It smelled like him, even after so many months. Tea and aftershave and a hint of whiskey and blasterfire.

Wrapping herself close, Satine tugged on a pair of boots and left the small chamber and wound down the halls and stairs. It was a bit of a trek to reach the landing platform. She mentally kicked herself for not telling Obi-Wan - she knew how much pain he was in.

She knew how much he would hide his pain. Damn man, always caring about everyone but himself. It was a sweet trait...until it wasn't.

* * *

The hangar was cold. Satine blew air into her fingers, wishing she had brought gloves. Mandalore was colder than Kalelava. She tugged the cloak closer, hiding her tunic and blue sleep pants - at least until the umteepth gust of wind blasted through.

"Hurry up Obi," she muttered through gritted teeth.

As if on cue, a clunker of a shuttle came into the hangar. It wasn't as bad as Skywalker's - but still bad and on its last legs. She bounced on hers toes a little, aware it was undignified for a Duchess but not really caring.

At the moment, she was just an anxious girlfriend watching the ramp slam down. The sound echoed in the empty chamber. She stepped forward.

Obi-Wan practically skipped down the ramp, meeting her in the middle. She bit her lip, fingers tracing over his brow and cheekbones and jaw. The same blue gaze she fell in love with all those years ago stared at her, though it was tired and sad. A hoarse laugh escaped her when he dropped the duffel bag and tugged her close.

_Two weeks...we have two weeks... _Satine was aware she was crying when she tucked her head into his neck.

The engine of the shuttle died down.

"I was afraid the Council would revoke your leave," she whispered.

Obi-Wan met her gaze when she looked at him, and then cupped her face gently and brushed their lips together. "I suppose the Force is with us," he mumbled against her lips.

Satine cracked a smile. "My grandmother wanted to put you in a separate bedroom - told her I'd bang you in the library if she did that."

"Promise?"

She laughed and shook her head, grasping his hand. A smile crossed his face, and he grabbed his duffel bag before they left the hangar.

Satine was aware how uncomfortable it probably was for him, walking through the ornate halls and passing the occasional guard. She tried to keep up smalltalk, though it mostly made them dissolve into giggles. She felt a teenager, sneaking around and anxious to just be together.

"I used to share my apartment with Bo and our younger sisters - Kristen and Patrica, you'll meet them tomorrow," Satine murmured while they finished walking the three kriffen flights of stairs and were walking past a closed doors. She wondered how much pain he was in. "It's kind of small now - Grandmama decided to separate the four apartments for our family into seven once everyone started marrying. It's mainly just a bedroom and a small lounge area now - every room has a bathroom, don't worry.

"Money is not spent on Mandalore on a child's belongings, is it?" he whispered, glancing around at the simplistic design of the doors - just bare stone, with a few plants wedged here and there.

"I grew up during a civil war - I'm one of seven - there's no money to spend on a child's needs unless they were dying." Satine shook her head sadly, pausing at the door at the end of the hall and typing in the lock. She didn't know why there was a lock - all of her siblings knew each other's codes. "My brothers are coming tomorrow - Korkie too."

Obi-Wan raised his eyebrows, and followed Satine into the apartment. It was so much smaller than her own back on Kalelava. He only had to walk a few steps to the couch, where he set the duffel bag down and shrugged out of his cloak. "How old is your youngest brother anyways?"

"Umm - four years older than Korkie. Nearly twenty. I took Korkie when my oldest brother died because...well, technalicity he's the Crown Prince. If I die without an heir…" She glanced at the ground. _Now. _She could voice her fear _now. _Now, when he wasn't the biggest fan of the Jedi and she had him all to herself for two whole weeks.

She tried to smile while taking off her cloak and boots. "Don't mind my depressing narrative."

"It happens," Obi-Wan whispered, stepping forward and brushing some hair away from her eyes. She felt him tilt her chin upwards, relaxing when he kissed her. Giving a sigh, she wove her fingers into his hair - then snorted when she found herself swept into his arms.

"You're dramatic," she muttered while burying her nose in his neck.

"Nonsense," he murmured, carrying her to bed.

On a different night he would have laid her down gently and bent forward, kissing her deeply and letting her set the pace.

It was not that night. Obi-Wan dumped her rather unceremoniously on the mattress, barely giving her time to breathe before he kicked his boots off and his knee was between her legs, lips claiming hers roughly. She tugged her fingers through his hair, anxious to touch him. A gasp left her when his teeth scraped and bit against her neck. A hand found its way to her waistband.

She tilted her head back when his fingers went to work, the weeks without being touched - well, her fingers were one thing but _his -_ making her breath hitch more than usual. "At this rate you should just tie me to the bed."

Obi-Wan glanced at her in the dim light, a smirk half-hidden by his beard. "I haven't heard you moan in weeks - don't tempt me with that fantasy."

She raised her eyebrows, feeling heat coil in her stomach. It wasn't often Obi-Wan was rough and demanding - but by gods, it was hot as hell when he was.

Obi-Wan took advantage of her silence to sit upwards and shrug out of his cloak, leaving her wrists free - though she kept them there, thinking. He eyes her when he divested of his tunic, leaving his scarred and tattooed chest bare. "What?"

"Do it then."

"What?"

Satin shrugged, well aware that he was the more naked of the two. But that fact alone was enticing. Catching his gaze, she fisted her fingers into the sheets. She watched his eyes drop to her covered chest before flickering to her face.

"Tie me to the bed, Obi-Wan Kenobi."

* * *

Mando'a Translations:

Jate o'r haav? - Good in bed?

That's luubid - That's enough

God - ibac beard cuyir dashing - does bic hurt vurel? - God - that beard is dashing - does it hurt ever?

nutennir laam - shut up

Don't gar t'ad - Don't you two.

Gedet'ye - Please

* * *

The Kryze Siblings:

Richard - 40 (assassinated at 25) (Korkie's father)

Leonardo - 39 (Father's bastard) (Spouse - Rosie)

Satine - 35

Bo-Katan - 29

Kristen - 23 (Spouse - Kevin)

Patricia - 21 (Spouse - Kendra-Anne)

Jared - 19

* * *

_Author's note: *Snickers* Satine, the only person to leave the ginger wonder speechless. Well done. __For those who want to know - Korkie would have been between 3 to 5 when the Mandalorian Civil War took place and he became Satine's ward_

_Enjoy my lovelies - I really enjoyed writing this chapter ;) We're so close to Obi-Wan's untimely death - BAhahahaa_

_ii Digestive Reader ii_

_p.s. - please, for the love of God, no one take offense to the lesbian joke. As a fellow gay I'm not being homophobic. Are we good? I presume the concept of identifying sexuality exists on some systems. _


	12. The Prince and the Pauper

Chapter Twelve: The Prince and the Pauper

* * *

Kit strode down the halls, carefully balancing the containers in his hands. There was a bit of oil seeping through the containers, but he didn't notice it much. The smell alone was overwhelming, though enjoyable.

Humans didn't quite realize how sensitive Nautolans noses were. Everything was heightened - and pheromones had their own stench.

_Obi-Wan always stinks of booze and sex, for one thing._

_Just like Qui-Gon._

He wrinkled his nose upon rounding a corner and coming into the classrooms near the hangar. Few actually taught here - Saesee Tiin and Anakin, mostly. They were the ones who led most of the flight tests and mechanics classes.

_Hopefully the next generation will take more of an interest in practical skills, _he thought while hearing noise coming from the only occupied classroom.

_Alot _of noise.

"Yeah, but what if you replaced hydrogen with a similar component?"

"Hydrogen is one of the most stable gases, why would you replace it?"

"If something works then - "

Anakin's voice rang through the padawans, clear and bemused. "If you guys want to test it, we can. But next week - you all have to prepare for the exam next class."

Kit pulled a small smile when he reached the threshold, stepping into the classroom quietly. A few wide eyed padawans - young, probably not even fifteen - stared back at him in amazement. He nodded back at them, a little saddened how empty the seats were.

Anakin - whom had been walking around the desks lecturing - turned at the sudden whispers and grinned. He looked tired, but happy. Teaching always made the young man happy. "Everyone say hi to Master Fisto."

A chorus of greetings echoed.

Kit bowed his head, aware it was a little undignified holding boxes of takeout in his hands.

"Master Fisto - any wise words for my charges?" Anakin strode to the desk at the front of the room, leaning against it. He wasn't wearing Jedi robes - just slacks and a black sweater.

"Listen to your master's," Kit began and smirked upon seeing the eyerolls begin. "But if you must, be sure you know how to convince the police you don't deserve the speeding ticket - isn't that right Master Skywalker?"

Anakin rolled his eyes at the snickering. "All right - everyone get out, enjoy lunch. I expect all of you to pass. I'll be here before the exam if you have questions."

He had barely finished his words before chairs screeched and there was a flurry of movement towards the door. Kit waited patiently while a few lingered, asking Anakin questions before leaving.

"Is that Dex's?" Anakin asked when the last padawan has left.

"Indeed it is."

Anakin grinned, walking to a cluster of desks. "Good, I'm fucking starving - Aayla or Garen coming?"

"They're stuck in the same meeting, I'm afraid." Kit followed, giving the containers to Anakin and shrugging out of his cloak before sitting down. "But Master Yoda is in that meeting - he'll be damned if he misses a meal."

"He probably hasn't missed one in all his nine-hundred-something years of living," Anakin muttered while he took one of the utensils floating among the sliders and attacked the mushy mess. "Bant left for Kashyyyk yesterday?"

Kit nodded, taking a few oil soaked biscuits from one of the containers. He frowned, then dug into his cloak pocket before extracting a was of napkins. "Temporary plates - but yes, she left. She was rather angry about the mission - she thinks her talents would be spent better here."

Anakin shook his head, looking grim. "We're spread thin out in the Galaxy, here...Kit you saw my classroom. Either everyone's on missions or...dead."

"I fear for this generation of padawans."

"Tell me about it."

Kit swallowed the bit of biscuit he had been chewing, blinking in surprise. "That includes you, Anakin."

Anakin nearly choked. Clearing his throat, he spluttered: "Me? But - I remember peacetime."

"True...but you went from a honeymoon to a battlefield within a week. While being a new amputee. Then you receive a padawan, your wife - "

"Alright alright - I get it. Some bad shit has happened. No kid should have to experience shit like Zygerria."

Kit knew the young man was deflecting, but he knew better than to push. "No - no one should."

Anakin set down his fork, massaging the bridge of his nose. "I don't know how Ahsoka is doing, if you're gonna ask. She won't talk to me. Maybe Aayla can talk to her."

"Mmm...and who will you talk to about the mission to Zygerria?"

* * *

Korkie woke to yelling. Loud, loud yelling in Mando'a. Grimacing, he rubbed at his eyes and blearily clambered down from his bunk. He puttered around the room half-awake, stepping over his uncle's belongings and tugging on his clothes. _Kryze colors. _Always Kryze colors, at Grandmama's house. Castle. Whatever.

It didn't take long to shove his belongings in a carry-on and walked out of the cramped quarters. The ship they were flying in was small, but comfortable.

Quaint, his uncle was fond of saying.

"Thank goddess gar cuyir a bastard, gar ru'kel draar cuyir a - "

"There cuyir she'cu adate acyk gar bal te throne - don't digur ibac!"

"How ru'lis Ni not tion'tuur anade constantly reminds ni! Ni'm shi saying - "

He grimaced, listening to his uncles argue. It was far too early for arguing - but hey, Mandalorian blood ran hot through all their veins. Arguing is what they did best. And fighting. Sometimes with guns and cannons.

Scrubbing a hand over his face, he walked to the cockpit. The door slid open, and the voices stopped.

Leonardo - thirty-nine, with strawberry blonde hair and sharp green eyes - swiveled around at the sound. A tired smile cracked over his face. "Would you look at that - sleeping beauty, finally awake."

Korkie rolled his eyes, then blinked when his younger uncle shoved past him muttering. He stared after him, debating whether or not to ask.

"He's debating about succession again."

"Why does Jared always do that?"

Leoarndo shrugged, turning back around and fiddling with the controls to pull out of hyperspace. He was dressed in military fatigues - it was custom that relief organizations such as his wore such attire. He hadn't had time to change, coming to Sundari to pick up Korkie and Jared before traveling to Mandalore.

"I don't know Korks - it must not be fun, having so many people having more privilege than you."

Korkie raised his eyebrows, sitting down just before the ship jerked out of hyperspace. He grimaced at the feeling of his stomach dropping - he'd never get used to flying. "You think it's fun being next in line? I have guards outside my dorm room."

"The ladies enteyor kar'taylir darasuum ibac. "

Korkie snorted.

"Anyways - Jared goes to the same boarding school and he doesn't have guards. I wouldn't know what it's like to be fawned over - I'm the bastard remember? I think I'm - twenty-second in line or something?"

"Farther than that, I believe. Sati'ika would know."

Leoarnado snorted, watching Mandalore coming steadily closer. "It is true she dragged that Jedi she used to date to Grandmama's?"

"Obi-Wan Kenobi? Yeah, I think - wait what?"

"What what?"

Korkie leaned forward, staring at the back of his uncle's head. "Tina and General Kenobi used to date?"

"You didn't know that? It was all over the press after the Civil War ended. I think they broke up for good - or, until now - sometime after the Trade Federation Blockade on Naboo. So - two, maybe three years?"

"No...No, I don't think she ever told me that." Korkie settled into the seat, tapping his fingers on the armrest. He had vague memories of a young, ginger-haired man playing tag with him around the gardens of Sundari. Maybe…

"Korks? Korkie!"

"Hmm?"

"We have about nine hours before we reach the castle - probably just in time for breakfast."

"Yeah…"

Leonardo didn't seem to notice his quiet. "Hey - who do you think will reveal they're pregnant? It happens at every one of these shindigs."

* * *

It was near dawn when the ship touched down in the landing bay. The engine rumbled, then groaned and clunked. Something screeched horribly.

"That doesn't sound good," Jared muttered while he slouched in his seat.

Leonardo snickered, switching everything off and standing from the pilot's seat. He clapped Jared on the shoulder. "Well being the ill favored child doesn't pay much - now if you excuse me, my witchy wife is waiting."

Korkie rolled his eyes, glancing at his younger uncle. Without a word they took their respective bags and strode that the ramp. He froze at the edge of the ramp, staring at the _Jedi Starfighter - ship - whatever._

_Fucking Kenobi is here...around Mandalorians?_

_What are playing at Auntie?_

He sighed, glancing at Leonardo bickering with his wife while holding his daughter and ruffling his son's hair.

"Yaim sweet yaim," Jared scoffed.

Korkie cracked a smile, following his uncle. He wanted to sneak past his aunt, though she stuck out a hand.

"Klaudius - hug!"

"Hello Auntie Rosie." Korkie tried not to grimace at the rough embrace he received, and pulled away as soon as it was acceptable. "You look well."

Rosie snorted, smiling when she glanced at her husband and Jared getting chased by the children around the landing bay. "Because I haven't seen my asshole of a husband."

"Mmm - is breakfast ready?"

"Starting - oi Jared! Take your nephew's bags and wake your sister!"

"Auntie please - " Korkie grimaced while he watched his younger uncle throw a glare at them.

* * *

"Hey. Hey babe - wake up."

Obi-Wan groaned, pushing her poking finger away and rubbing a hand over his eyes. From where he was laying, he could just see the window and the early morning gray seeping through the cracks of the curtains. The dream still hung heavy in his mind. "What?"

"I can't sleep."

"And you decided to wake me?"

Satine - lying on her side facing him - gave a shrug. Her hair was mussed, falling out of its braid and in her face a bit. "I...I had a bad dream, okay? I don't like being alone after they happen."

"But...I'm in beside you." Obi-Wan took her hand, pressing her knuckles to his lips. "You're not alone."

"Mmm...I just want to take my mind off of it."

"What happened, love?"

Satine swallowed, looking close to tears. "You...you died. I... don't remember how - but you were dead. I was watching your funeral... completely alone...well Anakin was there...I don't think he could hear me. He kept crying…"

"You woke up thinking I was dead? Oh honey I…" This was it. This is where he could tell her, tell her everything. The Hardeen mission, the plot... everything.

Satine squeezed his fingers tight, her chin quivering while she nodded.

He shifted closer, tugging her into his arms, feeling her slight form shaking. Even with her so close, he felt so empty. "I'm here," he whispered, kissing the crown of her head. " 'm okay."

She was quiet for a moment, breathing in and out quietly. Ever so slowly, her body relaxed.

"I'm okay." Obi-Wan rubbed at her shoulder. Putting his chin on her head, he was aware of her fingers moving underneath his tunic, tracing over his skin. He didn't move much, though he did let out a quiet breath when she kissed his neck a little harshly, teeth scraping against the skin.

"Didn't have enough fun last night my dear?"

"Shut up." Satine smiled at his huff, gently pushing at his shoulders. Without hesitation he rolled onto his back, grimacing while she moved onto his hips. She pulled back, eyes searching his, not putting her full weight him. "You okay? Too much?"

Obi-Wan responded by tugging her closer, winding his fingers through her loose braid and kissing her. He could feel her relax, engaging in their lazy kiss. It was a vast difference from the previous night, where they both had trouble catching their breath. If he focused even just a little, he could feel the now familiar energy of their child, twined fiercely with Satine's own light.

"You're never too much for me," he mumbled, pressing his lips to her jaw.

She gave a small laugh, head tilted so he could kiss her neck. "I don't know - sometimes -"

Someone pounded at the door.

"_Tina! Grandmama kelir pel'gam ni oyayc meh vi're du'car at lor'vram!"_

Satine froze, then grimaced and glanced at the alarm clock.

"Who?" Obi-Wan started before she put a hand on his chest while straightening and turning her head toward the door.

"Can you fuck off, Jared?"

"_Don't say I didn't warn you!"_

Obi-Wan raised his eyebrows while the footsteps faded away, then at his partner when she groaned and buried her face in the crook of his shoulder. "What was that about?" he asked, smoothing his hands over her back. "_Who _was that?"

Sighing, Satine kissed his neck before rolling away. "My youngest brother." She stood from the bed, wearing nothing but his tunic. It barely reached mid-thigh. "You stoop to their level."

"Oh don't I know it," Obi-Wan murmured, rolling to his side and watching her. He was amused that she kept his tunic on, only tugging on leggings and socks.

His joints clunked audibly when he stood, and his gave a harsh breath. Everything screamed at him while he tried to roll his shoulders.

Satine - fingers fixing her hair - frowned at him. "For the love of the goddess take your meds."

"I'm fine I - "

"Ben...your liver is precarious at best, the rest of you held together by stitches and staples...just - just take it."

Obi-Wan glanced at her, noticing how pale she looked. He walked to the couch, finding his duffel bag and opening it. "Satine...you feeling okay?"

No answer.

Dumping the needed pills in his hand, Obi-Wan turned to look at her - and raised his eyebrows while she was frozen heading into 'fresher. "Tina?"

" 'm fine - just gonna take an anti-nausea tablet."

"...menstrual cramps?"

"I...yeah. Probably." Satine turned her head, catching him staring. She managed a smile. "There's a change of clothes in the dresser for you - thought you might want something besides Jedi robes."

* * *

"You're crushing my hand."

"It's not every day you meet your partner's clan," Obi-Wan muttered while they went down the final spiral staircase. He loosened his hand from hers, only for her to stop and face him. "What?"

Satine managed a smile, reaching upwards and smoothing his hair. "You have fought on battlefields for years - and this scares you? Meeting my family?"

"Meeting your _clan_."

"It's only my immediate family - "

"That's 200 people Tina dear."

"183 but -"

"Tina! Not helping!"

Satine, still pale and looking exhausted, shook her head. Somewhere outside, bells chimed the hour. "You speak Mando'a - trust me, that's enough for most of my family."

"Are you forgetting I'm a Jedi?"

"What? No - " Satine sighed, turning to head down the rest of the steps. The rising sun coming through the windows caught on her earrings, causing light to be fractured over her face. "Bel was... you're better than him. They'll like you. I promise."

Obi-Wan scratched at his beard, then shook his head and followed her down the stairs. He nodded at the guards at the bottom, well aware of the scowl he received. Swallowing, he was relieved to find Satine's hand tucking into the crook of his elbow.

She squeezed his arm, looking at the half-open door at the end of the hall. There was chatter and laughter coming from it, coming ever closer - smells too. Wonderful smells, of spices he'd rarely smelled in the Mandalore system, and fresh bread, sausages, eggs - the list of what had been cooked probably went on.

"That smells wonderful."

"Yep," Satine muttered through gritted teeth.

He patted her arm, and Satine set her shoulders and lifted her chin a little.

When they stepped in - well, he was tempted to run to Hoth. Every eye turned to them - heck, even the chatter quieted, the kids stopped playing. There were over 25 tables, all with benches and packed with Mandalorians that all looked...well, not too happy to see a Jedi.

It was easy to spot the Kryze siblings. They sat to the side, near a roaring fire. All of them had white- blonde hair or auburn hair or somewhere in the middle of the two colors.

But it took him a second to realize that...no one was really paying them any mind. Satine tugged him along, stopping at chattering tables, embracing those who stood, speaking between Basic and Mando'a, accent becoming thicker and more pronounced.

He smiled and waved and was tackled in an embrace more than once.

_So many names. Johann, cousin. Rosemary, aunt. Henry, Harold, Edgar, Roan, Sasha, Stuart, Samantha, Ian-Lo, at least three Klaudius', multiple names that ended in 'Katan' or 'Lene' and -_

Satine wove between tables, laughing when young cousins and nieces and nephews tackled her legs. She seemed so incredibly happy, ruffling their hair and asking about school and trying to introduce Obi-Wan.

"Are you gonna let me eat breakfast?" Satine murmured to a set of twins - cousins, maybe. "I heard Auntie Kristen just came in, I want to say hi."

Obi-Wan hung back, watching an uncle? cousin? mutter something to Satine while the giel sulked and moved back to the bench. He smiled, watching her kneel down and whisper something. The girl glanced at Obi-Wan, then gave a wide, toothy grin and an enthusiastic nod.

"What was that about?" Obi-Wan murmured when he offered her hand to help her rise.

Satine smiled while they wove between the final few tables, nodding to family members that she probably didn't know as well, judging by how she merely exchanged nods and waves too. "I told her if she rounded up all of her cousins we'd take them sledding."

"We?" Obi-Wan echoed. "How many are - "

"Aunt Tina!"

Obi-Wan physically stepped back while five missiles launched themselves at his partner. He bumped into the bench behind him, and heard a snort.

"Kathy! Kay-Lin! Lene! Be careful with her, she doesn't lift."

"I don't kar'taylir Rosie - she bangs a Jetiise. "

"That's disgusting, do not put that image in my head."

"Kevin - _nutennir laam."_

"You're making a scene - "

"Oh my Goddesses, she wasn't kidding when she said he was ripped."

Satine didn't seem to notice the insult - she was too busy talking to the children around her feet, laughing while they vied for her attention and begged for a hug.

"If you knock her up I swear I will run you through with your own lightsaber."

Obi-Wan craned his neck, realizing he was right behind Korkie. He managed a smile - he'd met the kid a few times. Nice, but a little surly at times. Typical teenager really.

_Anakin was like that at this age._

"I'll try to wait until after the war."

Korkie raised his eyebrows, then looked at his aunt sidling onto a bench mostly occupied by her sisters. She was still talking to her nieces and nephews, trying to convince them to sit back down at the table Korkie was at.

"Yep."

Obi-Wan blinked, but before he could say anything -

"Woah, _that's _your new toy?"

He turned, watching Satine groan and give him helpless smile. Managing a laugh, he gave a mock bow.

"Obi-Wan Kenobi, at your service."

"Oh _really?"_

"Leonardo," Satine snapped, glaring at a man with strawberry blonde hair and sharp green eyes. "Don't start."

Leonardo rolled his eyes, sipping at his tea. He looked a little...well, a little more like a warrior than a pacifist, judging by his appearance alone - and the gun that was strapped to his side.

"He's a _Jettise_ Satine -"

Satine rolled his eyes, taking a teacup one of her brother's offered. She took a sip, then appeared to grimace and set it down. "Guys - this is Obi-Wan Kenobi, Jedi Master and General of the Third Systems Army of the Republic."

Shaking his head at the overly long title, he gave a smile. "Please - Obi-Wan."

"Jared - you can be up close and personal with your celebrity crush!" One of the sisters snickered, and Obi-Wan glanced at the young man beside Korkie, who was intently focusing on his breakfast despite his pink ears.

Satine laughed, ruffling one of her nieces hair when the little one clambered onto the spot beside her. "Jared - believe me, you don't want to be close to him. He makes horrible jokes."

"Excuse me darling," Obi-Wan muttered, rewarded with a smirk and a wink.

"Where's Grandmama?" Satine asked, looking at her siblings. "I didn't see her coming in."

"Breaking fast in her chambers - she'll probably summon her favorite," Patricia, judging by the necklace with her initials on it. She looked the most like Satine, though a little thicker. "She'll probably want to - "

"Yell at you for banging a Jedi."

"Leo for the love of - "

Obi-Wan didn't quite understand what happened, and in what order. He did know the Leonardo started to roll his eyes and open his mouth - and Satine was pressing a fist to her chest, looking incredibly pale.

Korkie and Jared spoke, taking the attention away for a brief moment before Kendra-Anne was taking a flowerpot from behind her and shoving it toward Satine.

He _did _know that the conversation ceased around the surrounding tables when Satine vomited into the flowerpot.

"...the fuck?" A sister muttered, holding her little one close.

Pressing his lips together, Obi-Wan attempted to ignore the audience and knelt by her side, rubbing at her back. He could feel her shaking, horrible exhausted while she finished and took a breath that sounded like a sob. One of her siblings set the flowerpot aside, and she put her head in her hands.

"Tina?" he whispered, putting his free hand on her knee. "Tina, you - "

" 'm fine," she whispered softly. " 'm fine."

"You just vomited in a flower -"

"I know." Satine raised her head, glaring at him before -

She frowned, straightening a little. Obi-Wan turned, raising his eyebrows at what looked like a messenger.

"Yes?"

The messenger - herald, maybe was a better term - tipped his blue cap. "The Lady of the Clan wishes to meet you, Lady Duchess. You and your... companion."

* * *

Mando'a Translations:

* * *

The Kryze Siblings:

Richard - 39 (assassinated at ) (Korkie's father)

Leonardo - 39 (Spouse - Rosie)

Satine - 35

Bo-Katan - 29

Kristen - 23 (Spouse - Kevin)

Patricia - 21 (Spouse - Kendra-Anne)

Jared - 19

* * *

Mando'a Translations:

Thank goddess gar cuyir a bastard, gar ru'kel draar cuyir a - Thank _goddess _you are a bastard, you would never be a

There cuyir she'cu adate acyk gar bal te throne - don't digur ibac! - There are nine people between you and the throne - _don't _forget that!

How ru'lis Ni not tion'tuur anade constantly reminds ni! Ni'm shi saying - How could I not when everyone constantly reminds me! I'm just saying

The ladies enteyor kar'taylir darasuum ibac. - The ladies must _love _that.

Yaim sweet yaim - Home sweet home

* * *

_Author's note: hello there ;) writing from Korkie's pov was certainly an experiment. I hope I did well._

_Let me know what you thought - more of Korkie, or more of Kit? Or have something from Obi's pov soon?_

_ii Digestive Reader ii_


	13. Panic Attack

Chapter Thirteen: Panic Attack

* * *

"Explain to me what the hell is happening?" Obi-Wan muttered, tugging her away from the top of the stairs and leaning against the bannister when they reached the floor her grandmother lived on. "A messenger comes - who happens to be a cousin of yours - comes while you're vomiting and says that your grandmother -"

"She just wants to meet you - I haven't had a relationship since just before the war - heck, I haven't _slept _with anyone since before the war."

"Your cousin - " Obi-Wan glanced down the hallway, where the young messenger was waiting for them to finish. He sighed, grasping her forearms gently, ducking to meet her gaze. "Darling."

Satine bit her lip, only looking at him when he squeezed her forearms gently. "Just - just remember that my grandmother doesn't speak Basic - and hates Jedi."

"... you're fucking kidding - "

"Ben - please. She doesn't know you but she is letting you stay here - you have no idea how much this means."

Obi-Wan leaned his brow against hers, then pressed a kiss to her brow. She smiled a little, and together they stepped away from the bannister.

Her cousin - Lucias, that was his name - gave a smile and stepped to the door. He knocked a moment, then pressed palmed the door open.

Satine squeezed his hand, and they followed Lucias into the chambers.

It was a beautiful apartment, marked with golds and blue and whites. There were bookshelves high with _flimsi _novels, tapestries depicting battles between Jedi and Mandalorians, high windows with heavy good drapes.

The conversation between five women ceased when they stepped in. All the women looked eerily similar - sharp eyes, high cheekbones, graying and white hair tied in various styles of braid. They watched with blue and gray eyes, fingers stilling on the needlework in their laps.

Lucias bowed, and they followed his example. "My aunts - grandma - Satine and her riddur."

_Sisters. They're all sisters._

"Tina." A woman in the middle of the couches of the dropped her needlework and gestured at the plates on the car table. "Sheber. Epar."

"Lucias - come come, join."

Obi-Wan walked a step behind Satine, feeling a bit of sweat trickle down his spine. He watched the much younger cousin walk to a different woman, realizing Lucias and Satine didn't share a grandmother.

"Kaysh's skinny," one of the sisters muttered, causing som giggling.

"Handsome - jate'shya than Bel."

Satine sat on the unoccupied sofa, not making a move to embrace any of her relatives. He sat next to her hesitantly, about to sit away from her before thinking better of it and sitting thigh-to-thigh.

One of the sisters raised her eyebrows at that.

"Ni'm sure gar've gathered ibic cuyir Obi-Wan Kenobi, ba'buir."

"Mm - rejorhaa'ir him kaysh ru'kir respect cuun traditions bal not nuhoy o'r gar haav'yam."

"Ba' buir - "

"He has killed, Satine."

"Makes war," one of the sisters muttered in Basic, picking at her needlework. _A purple butterfly, flying in front of a rainbow._

"Is a Jedi - why, Satine? Why?"

"Ni liked bel - nice jag, bal a related at te clan." "I liked Bel - nice man, and a related to the clan."

Obi-Wan cleared his throat, bringing the attention to himself. "Ni jorhaa'ir mando'a, ner ladies."

Never had he felt the need to shrink so small, though he remained sitting uptight, Satine's hand covering his own.

The grandmother cracked a smile, and leaned forward, pushing the plate of breakfast cookies and bowls of fruits towards them.

* * *

The days - once the initial interrogation was over - passed slowly. The communal breakfast, he learned, only happened once a week on a Sunday. That gave them plenty of time to wake peacefully, lazily making love and spending an incredible amount of time intertwined, murmuring stories to each other.

The future, Obi-Wan realized, could be so much closer if he just...just walked away.

He lay awake one week into his leave, staring at the ceiling, listening to Satine breathe beside him, to the creaks of the palace.

It was early morning, that much he knew.

Early morning - at the Temple he would have been awake, slugging through a shower, downing his second cup of caf, hurrying to teach class or attend a meeting.

He wondered what Anakin would be doing right now.

Probably waking up beside Padmé, not knowing what the day with bring with her, having to leave, teach at the Temple, train Ahsoka, take on the responsibilities of the Third Systems Army because Obi-Wan wasn't there, review the newest designs of the fleet…

Obi-Wan rolled over, ignoring his aching joints, studying her face in the dim light. She had become so thin these past few months - he prayed that it was a result of stress and not -

He remembered _that_ horrible aspect of their two year relationship years ago, the eating disorder part, the constant panic attacks, the screaming matches, her struggling to rule a wattorn system, raise a child, maintain their joke of a relationship...

Carefully, he reached out, brushing against the little light. It responded, wiggling a little at his touch. He smiled, stretching out a hand, knuckles against her tunic-covered stomach. There was no rise yet, he knew that, but still…

Obi-Wan leaned over, pressing a kiss to her brow before moving to leave the bed. He tried to dress quietly - and jammed his toe against the 'fresher door jam.

"Ben?" Satine muttered, rising on her elbow and rubbing the sleep our of her eyes while he cursed. A smile crossed her face when she realized what he had done. "Fracture something my dear?"

He tossed a mocking glare at her, to which she laughed at.

"You wanted to be at the library right?" Satine asked, pushing the covers aside. She stood - and had to catch herself on the wall.

"Tina!"

"I'm fine," she muttered, brushing her hair out of her face. "This damn stomach flu won't leave."

Obi-Wan stayed quiet, and went into the 'fresher.

* * *

When the day of the Festival started, Satine didn't want to leave the Palace. She claimed to her siblings that it was too risky, having the pacifist ruler of Mandalore celebrate a warrior holiday with her Jedi boyfriend.

Everyone accepted that - well, Obi-Wan was a tad suspicious. Even her brother Leonardo - bastard brother, he had learned - looked a little surprised. It was the only time he looked at Obi-Wan in question instead of contempt.

While most of the Kryze clan, albeit the youngest members and the select few who didn't tolerate the cold well - herded outside the join the crowds, Satine led Obi-Wan to the little used library. This library, he learned, was available to the public. It was a cute little place, mixed with holobooks and flimsi novels and maps. It was run by a rotating staff of a lesser branch of the Kryze clan, and only one of them was working when they walked in.

Satine greeted her with a wave, and tugged Obi-Wan to some stairs.

"Where are you taking me?" he asked, amused. -

"Be patient."

"What, finally making good on your promise to have sex in - "

"Obi!" But she was laughing, ducking into a darkened room. Curious, he stood aside while she fiddled with the ancient holoprojector -

"What the hell?"

A hologram of a Togruta - Jedi, tall, dressed in fashions outdated by several centuries - wove and deflected against foes, debated against politicians, gave lectures…

"It's a compilation of General Javadeva Tano. She fought for us sometimes, against us others. Was quite something." Satine stepped back, leaning her head against Obi-Wan's shoulder. "There's reason to believe that the current Tano clan is related to her."

Obi-Wan watched, noticing a few similarities between this general and his padawan. A sad smile tugged at his lips.

_God, what will happen to Ahsoka with this mission?_

"You can keep the disk - I made a copy for Ahsoka."

He pressed a kiss to her forehead in thanks, and continued to watch.

* * *

"I just don't get it, Padmé!" Ahsoka groaned, pushing her datapad away and putting her head on the kitchen table. "Why the hell did I choose this class?!"

Padmé chuckled, rubbing the padawan's arm and glancing at the chrono. Seven p.m. standard time. _Anakin should be home soon_. "Calm down, Ahsoka. That's why you have me."

"You're a Senator - I like philosophy."

"I thought you liked mechanics."

"Mmm."

Padmé tapped her fingers against the table, trying to figure out how to explain the election process on most Republican planets. "Citizens go to polling stations to cast their votes. They tell their representatives in the electoral college how to vote on their behalf."

Ahsoka raised her head and squinted. "In the case of...say, Naboo...isn't Jar-Jar Binks the representative?"

"For the Gungans, and myself, when I cannot represent Naboo," she hesitated, "technically, the Chancellor could represent Naboo as well, since he is a native and served as Senator before me. But it's highly unlikely that would ever happen."

"Huh...so in an election, once eligible voters cast their votes and the most popular candidate wins...the electoral college - "

Padmé took a sheet of flimsi from the pile before them and a stylus. "Let's focus on Naboo, Ahsoka. Coruscant's government is pretty similar."

Two hours passed. From beyond the kitchen, the doors to the apartment swished open. Anakin and Captain Typho could be distinctly heard, though it was hard to tell what they were saying.

"I don't like politics. It's confusing," Ahsoka grumbled, scratching at her arm. She frowned at the echoing laugh from the sitting room. "Was that Master Skywalker?"

Padmé had to smile while she pulled another sheet of flimsi towards her, raising her voice to allow her husband to hear her - and let him know his padawan was in the kitchen. She felt her neck twinge a bit. Today had been a rather mild day of symptoms, thank goddess. "Your master was much the same when it came to learning politics."

"Really?" Ahsoka rolled her eyes. "I couldn't have guessed."

"You're taking 'Introduction to Galactic Politics,' Ahsoka. It's not an easy class for anyone." Padmé glanced up when her husband walked in, disheveled and greasy from working on ships all day. She frowned a bit at the mud that his boots had tracked into her kitchen. "You're doing fine. Anakin - how was your day?"

"What are you doing here?" Ahsoka asked, turning around in her seat. "It's nearly nine o'clock at night."

Anakin leaned against the threshold, studying his padawan. A frown came over his features. "I came to inform Senator Amidala that I finished rerouting the wiring of the deflector shields in her 7B Delta, Snips. But I think the better question is why you're here and not at Astronomy 235 with Master Tiin?"

Padmé stared at the sheepish padawan. "Ahsoka! You told me you didn't have class!"

"I forgot, okay! The class meets once a week and - "

"You didn't do your paper, did you?"

"No - "

Anakin rolled his eyes. "Ahsoka!"

"I've been trying to understand Galactic Politics - and no thanks to you! Master Kenobi hasn't been on-planet in two weeks to tutor me and you suck at politics - "

"Hey!"

"Padmé offered to help me!"

Padmé cut in before her husband could say anything further, standing up to gather the notes from the tutoring session into a pile. "Ahsoka, know that I will always help you - but you must learn to balance your responsibilities."

Ahsoka hung her head. "I know. But my classes are so hard!"

Anakin sighed, rubbing at the back of his neck. "You can't excel at everything, Ahsoka. Do you think Master Kenobi understands how reroute the primary initiator when the engines are shot and transfer all power to the backup engine so hyperspace _and _defense shields don't lower?"

Padmé blinked. "I didn't even understand what you just said, Anakin."

"And that's my point. You can't be good at everything. Shirking one responsibility for another isn't a way to live. You have to find a way to do both." Anakin may have been talking to his padawan, but he was looking at Padmé while he spoke. "Ahsoka...I want you to be better than me, okay? I was not the model padawan - I don't want you to walk the same path."

"But the Galaxy loves you for not being the model Jedi!"

"But it caused me enough grief with the Council. There is no reason for you to have the same experiences."

Padmé reached out a hand to grasp the quiet padawan's shoulder. "Your master's right, you know."

Anakin cracked a smile. "Did I just hear that correctly? I'm right about something?"

She rolled her eyes. "Ahsoka? What do you have to say?"

"I should not skip the rest of Master Tiin's class and endure whatever punishment he gives me?"

"Even if it's teaching younglings?" Anakin asked, raising his eyebrows while Ahsoka stood. "With Master Yoda?"

"Even that," Ahsoka responded glumly, gathering her books.

"You have it easy, Snips. Master Kenobi used to drag me to his lectures at museums and make me write papers about it."

"Now that sounds awful."

Padmé shook her head and embraced Ahsoka goodnight. "Poor Obi-Wan. How he manages to put up with you two for weeks on end is beyond me."

Anakin shrugged. "How did you get here, Snips?"

"I took a taxi."

"Of course you did. Come on. I'll fly you back you back to the Temple."

* * *

Obi-Wan woke to his comlink chirping. He murmured an apology to Satine, gently untangling himself from her fierce grip.

"You're warm," she mumbled.

He leaned over, pressing a kiss to her neck and chuckling when she squirmed. "I'll only be a moment - it's probably just the Temple."

"Fuck the Temple."

Obi-Wan smiled and pushed himself out of bed. Taking the comlink, he walked into the small living chamber.

"Hello - Mace?"

The Master of the Order gave a grim smile. _"Obi-Wan - I trust you have enjoyed your leave?"_

"Well." He sat on the couch and desposited the comlink on the coffee table.. "I have spent much time in the Kryze library. You would enjoy it - it's rather remarkable, how much information they have regarding the Jedi. I even managed to obtain a holo regarding the Tano general - "

_"General Javadeva Tano? We barely have information about her...but I presume you will give the Holo to Padawan Tano though?"_

Obi-Wan gave a wry grin, glancing at the bedchamber door. "What do you need Mace? It is early morning here and well - I do have a featherbed to return too."

Mace blinked in surprise, though he was quick to cover it. _"The Council wishes to ensure you will return on the day you're supposed too?"_

"The Council?"

Mace shook his head and sighed. _"I sent you some information regarding the mission...I'd like you to look at it."_

Obi-Wan glanced at the floor, staring at his bare feet and feeling the cold seep into his toes. He swallowed, thinking of the mission and all it would ruin in his life.

_"Obi-Wan...you can tell two people. I'd advise you to tell them."_ Mace folded his arms over his chest, then shook his head.

"...I think I can make my own decisions, Master." Obi-Wan forced a smile, looking at the Master of the Order. "Are we done, Master?"

Mace studied him, pressing his lips together before nodding. _"I will see you in two days, Master Kenobi."_

Obi-Wan watched the Holo fizzle out, then buried his head in his hands. He gave a shuddering breath, trying to control his breathing.

* * *

Klaudia Satine Kryze leaned against her bedchamber window, watching the grounds below her. The halls and gardens were now quiet, allowing her to watch the figures below without having to engage in further conversation or gossip. Her granddaughter walked slowly with that Jedi, arm in arm and heads bent together. Even from afar their love shone.

She fingered the shawl around her shoulders, then sunk to the window-seat. Amazing, how even after all these years no one ever had questioned the disappearence of Satine's old bethrothed.

_Bel. Bel Merrick._

What a di'kut. A man that had deserved the posion she had ordered to be given to him. _Food posioning by a muskell. Ha! _

No one had even questioned it, not even Satine...she hadn't even cried at his funeral. Bel had beaten Satine within an inch of her life more than once. Caused her panic to flare, caused her to fal back into her poor eating habits, caused her to wear far more cosmetics than nesscary just to hide her bruises.

Laughter echoed from the garden. Klaudia turned her head, smiling when she saw the Jedi pick her granddaughter up and swing her around. Her granddaughter rarely laughed like that. He was handsome, that was for sure. Strong too - and he spoke two dialects of Mando'a fluently.

A keeper, most definately.

She wondered when the Jedi would leave the damned war and tie the knot…

* * *

Satine had wanted to enjoy his last day lazily, preferably not moving from the bedchamber for most of it.

But her body had other ideas. She scrambled out of Obi-Wan's arms, flinging back the covers and barely made it to the 'fresher before vomiting last night's dinner.

_...no no no…_

She'd woken vomiting most days these past two weeks...and had vomited at night too. During the day. Migraines had stared to crop up too. Joint pain.

Obi-Wan came in for a moment when some time had passed, kneeling and making sure she was okay. He kept looking like he wanted to beg an answer...he simply nodded when she requested he head to the kitchen and mix sodium bi-carbonate into water for her to drink.

"Oh god…" she muttered when the door of the chamber had closed. This was...Satine sighed, reaching and flushing the sani. There was a part of her that felt like she needed to keep vomiting. With a grimace she rose gingerly, rinsing out her mouth and grasping the waster bucket.

She settled on the couch, feeling sweat cold on her skin. She closed her eyes, trying to keep herself of vomiting again. _This can't be happening._

She didn't have to wait long for the door to open - twenty minutues maybe. Or less.

"You moved far," he murmured, shutting the door behind him.

"Mmm." Satine - now sitting curled on the couch - gave a small smile when he set the tray down before her. There was the sodium bicarbonate water, but also a few pieces of dried toast, two peeled plantains, and a teapot of Sapnir with cups. She took the requested drink carefully, stirring it gently before taking a sip and grimacing. "Just as bad as I remember it."

He forced a chuckle out, sitting beside her and glancing at the waste bin on the carpet. Without a word he poured himself a cup of tea and took a plantain. "The smell won't bother you?"

She shrugged, staring at the cup in her hands.

"At least a slice of toast and half a plantain," Obi-Wan murmured when she had stared at the food for awhile. "That's all I ask."

She nodded after a moment, taking what he requested and chewing. Her stomach lurched, though she forced herself to swallow.

"Ben…" She eventually whispered, two slices of toast and a bite of plantain later. "What...what if I'm pregnant?"

Obi-Wan glanced at her, then set his cup down on the caf table. He shifted a bit, just enough to face her. A small, pained smile was on his face."Then you'll be a damn good mother, my dear."

Satine grimaced, remembering how Bel had reacted once when she had taken a pregnancy test. She still had the scar where he punched her, fingers full of rings. "I don't even know how behave around them."

"I'm sure…" He reached out a hand and cupped her jaw."I'm sure if it's our kid we would figure it out."

Satine closed her eyes, brushing his hand away and leaning her head on his shoulder. Her voice shook while she spoke. " 'm scared."

"I know...I know."

"I'm really scared."

It never took long to find herself in his lap, his arms wrapping around her. She tried not to sob while curling into him.

"Take a test when you're ready," he whispered, propping his chin on her hair. "Not before."

"We basically know the answer don't we?"

"Tina…"

"You've known, haven't you?"

"I...I've suspected. Dreams…feelings."

"What will happen - to you?"

"Don't worry about me - we'll figure it out," he whispered, kissing her hair. "I promise."

"What does that mean?"

"What?"

"What are you hiding, Ben?" Satine tilted her chin up, her eyebrows screwed together. Her fingers wound into his tunic. "Why are you acting like this? Like something horrible is about to happen?"

"Well in your mind it is."

"Excuse me for not wanting to be pregnant."

_Excuse me for wanting you at my side and you don't have the balls to stay._

"We - we don't even know, Satine - you just said it yourself." Obi-Wan sighed while she turned her head away, and put his hand on her jaw gently. "Tina - Tina, look at me."

"What is wrong? Tell me - something, Ben. Please."

"It's…" he sighed heavily. "It's just a mission I'm not looking forward too - I can't exactly give the details."

"Can't or won't?"

"Can't... that's all I can say."

Satine bit her lip, then nodded, rubbing at her eyes. She didn't have the energy to argue. "Why didn't I ask you to stay all those years ago?"

"I...I don't know."

* * *

"Satine?"

No response. Obi-Wan frowned, shrugging his cloak off and tossing it on the couch. He had left after dinner the check his transport and make sure everything was in working order before he left in the morning. There was a bit of grease under his fingernails and on his front, but he barely noticed while he walked through the chambers.

The bedchamber was dark, save for the moon shining through the uncovered windows.

The light was on on the 'fresher.

He grimaced, walking towards it and gently knocking on the closed door. "Tina?"

"It's unlocked," she mumbled dejectedly.

Suppressing a sigh he put a hand on it, feeling the door slide back.

Satine was sitting on the floor, holding something in her hands. Her gaze was vacant, focused somewhere on the floor. Tears were stained on her cheeks.

"Sweetheart." Obi-Wan knelt to the floor, covering her hands and grimacing when she flinched. It took a moment, but she released the object into his hands. He stared at it, brow creasing.

It was a pregnancy test...but unused and untampered with.

"I couldn't do it," she whispered hoarsely. "I couldn't do it."

There was a part of him, one that was desperate and clinging to the hope that he had a reason to wiggle out of the mission, wanted to tell her to just take the damn test.

But it didn't take a genius to realize how pale and shaky she was, how everything was tense and how her pulse was visible in her neck.

"I tried Ben but if - if I am everyone will - they already call me a whore for being with you and - my mother would be so ashamed of me, she hatedthefactIevenhadsexbeforemarriage - "

Her voice was rising, words blurring together and breath harsh. She pressed her fingers into her temples, making a low keening sound and choking back a sob. Tears rolled down her face.

Obi-Wan bit back the shock - he hadn't seen one of her panic attacks in years. Forcing down the uncomfortableness, he sought his memory and had a vague recollection that she hated being touched. But she needed someone there - most of her self-harm over the years had been during panic attacks.

He set the pregnancy test aside, staying in her line of vision but off to the side.

Satine buried her head in her hands, fingernails digging into her scalp and tugging. It was hard to tell if she sobbed or screamed.

_Grounding. Right, that's what he needed to help her do._

"Satine...listen to my voice honey...focus on that."

* * *

_Author's note: :)_

_ii Digestive Reader ii_


	14. Morals and Morality

Chapter Fourteen: Morals and Morality

* * *

**Warning:** Discussion of abortion in chapter

* * *

"Satine…sit down, I have to tell you something."

Satine glanced over at him, finishing shrugging on her cloak. "Now? You have to leave - "

"The Temple can wait an hour." Obi-Wan tried to smile, though it failed at her wary look. "... it's about the mission that I have coming up."

"Oh?"

* * *

Cody listened quietly when his General - fresh from his leave on Mandalore and exhausted as hell - came in with a box of pre-recorded Holos. To his _loved ones. _In case of _an untimely death. _

_His untimely death._

He hadn't even been to the Temple.

Mission. A mission to save the Chancellor. Pretend to be dead for weeks. Deep undercover as a bounty hunter. Could only tell two people. Dying during the mission was a legitimate possibility. The mission was to finish on Naboo, if everything went according to plan.

He stayed silent when his General finished, staring at the box in front of him.

_Damn this man...damn you Obi-Wan Kenobi._

"Cody?" Obi-Wan asked hesitantly. It was strange, to see him in civvies in the offices of the Marshal Commanders. "I know this is asking a lot but - "

"You're telling me instead of General Skywalker? Instead of the Duchess, who is pregnant with _your _child?"

For once, the General has the decency to look ashamed when he glanced down at the scuffed floor. "I...the chance of the…Satine knows. I told her before I left... she's not exactly happy with me...Anakin doesn't know."

"And so you recorded videos of yourself on the way here...in case this mission kills you? Despite the fact you had the option to back out multiple times?"

The General rubbed his neck. "It's...not ideal but...I know it seems bad but…"

Cody hauled himself upwards, listening to his joints pop while he made his way around the desk. He stood in front of his General, waiting for eye contact -

And punched Obi-Wan Kenobi in the jaw.

It felt nice, watching Obi-Wan stagger and grasp the desk in support. He didn't cry out - oh no, Obi-Wan was too stoic for that - but he grimaced, eyes closing while he stared at the floor for a moment.

"You're a fucking bastard."

"I - I - " Obi-Wan rotated his jaw, touching it gingerly while he straightened. "I deserved that."

Cody folded his arms over his chest. "Apologies General - my hand slipped."

Obi-Wan snorted, massaging his jaw gently while he leaned against the desk. "No offense Cody - I would have done the same thing."

"You're asking me to do the inexcusable."

"I know."

"And you're - you're okay with this?"

A snort came out of Obi-Wan. "Okay? Hell no. But...Anakin do not need the burden - "

"You're a pile of excuses, Master Kenobi. You run from everything when it comes into conflict with your code." Cody walked back to his desk, sitting down and plucking his stylus up again. The box mocked him. "I'll do it - I don't agree, but I'll do it."

"You- thank you Cody. You're a true friend."

Cody stilled, then looked at the man he once shared a bed with. "I hope you can find the exit, General - one of the shinies can help you, if you trip over your morals on the way out."

* * *

Obi-Wan massaged his jaw while he left the barracks. He didn't look at any of the troopers - it ached too much.

Or maybe that his still healing bones aching…

Or maybe he didn't want to look anyone in the eye, because he knew it would be impossible not to notice his bloodshot eyes.

Satine had screamed at him so much her voice had been raw. She hadn't wanted him to leave…

_One last mission, _he'd said. _One last mission, _he'd promised against lips and shaking hands. _Then I'll be home. I'll stay by your side. One last mission and the Order won't have me anymore._

He tugged the hood of his sweatshirt over his head upon stepping out of the barracks. Rain was thundering down, making it hard to see. After two weeks of not wearing his Jedi robes, he hadn't wanted to put them back on.

Not yet.

Steeling himself, he darted into the rain, weaving through pedestrians and towards the landing platform two blocks away. He'd parked his ship there, away from prying eyes.

The rain soaked through his sweatshirt and water seeped through his trainers - but it still felt nice to run and let the cold seep into his lungs.

A vague memory tugged at the back of his mind - of being sick with pneumonia when he was a young teenager. He remembered Qui-Gon had slept in his hospital room every night, his massive frame curled on a cot in the hospital room. Often Tahl had been there, recently blinded but no less fierce, holding a basin while Obi-Wan hacked out mucus and prayed it was over.

He slowed, turning into the lot where he'd parked the ship. The guard on-duty recognized him and nodded.

There was a different part of the memory he now recalled... Qui-Gon pulling Tahl into the hall late at night, the two of them whispering frantically and Qui-Gon breaking down in tears, Tahl tugging him close and whispering something.

"... odd."

Shaking himself of the memory, Obi-Wan went to his ship.

* * *

Quinlan walked through the halls, for once trying to be quiet. It was late at night, barely an acceptable time for a social call.

But this was...not a social call. Not really.

He ran a hand over his scalp, missing his dreads. Dumb undercover mission forcing him to do it to fit in. _Aayla will laugh herself silly when she sees me._

The apartment he needed was on his left. He studied the decal on the door - some red and yellow symbol Skywalker had created years ago.

Whatever.

The door was locked, but Quinlan knew the codes. He punched them in quickly, smirking when the door clicked and slid open.

"Obes?"

Obi-Wan - at the kitchen table, talking to a Holo - glanced upwards. He brow creased for a moment before relaxing. "It appears I have a visitor, my dear."

_The Duchess then. _Quinlan spotted the hissing teapot on the stove and went to help himself.

_"...stay safe, Obi-Wan. As safe as you can."_

Quinlan rummaged through a cabinet and extracted a box of oolong tea.

"I'll say the same to you...and don't do anything that might -"

_"Obi...please. Don't."_

Quinlan glanced at his friend, raising his eyebrows at the tense exchange. It wasn't fighting really but…

Obi-Wan bowed his head, then nodded. "I love you."

There was something unspoken in the air, though Quinlan couldn't figure it out. He realized Obi-Wan didn't have a cup in front of him, and fixed a second cup of oolong.

_"I love you more."_

The Holo fizzled when it cut. Obi-Wan put his head in his hands, sighing heavily.

"Something happen between you two?" Quinlan asked while he walked over to the liquor cabinet.

"No - oh Quinlan...no alcohol for me."

"Who are you and what the fuck did you do to Obi-Wan?"

Obi-Wan raised his head and cracked a smile. God, he looked so _tired. _"Your habits fucked up my liver I'm afraid. I'm at a pretty high risk for ALD - or cancer. Whatever comes first."

Quinlan had been around Bant long enough to figure out the meaning "ALD - Alcohol Hepistits? Or liver cancer?" He whistled, abandoning the search for whiskey and deciding to take the cups of tea to the table. "But ah - I believe we inherited these habits from Master Qui-Gon and Tholme."

Obi-Wan snorted, taking his preferred tea and taking a sip. "Could we talk about something else Quin? I don't really want to focus on my mortality."

"So no talk of the mission starting tomorrow night?" Quinlan leaned back in his seat at his friend's sigh. "Pretending to die in front of Anakin at the hands of Rako Hardeen and taking the place of Ramp Hardeen...in order to maybe save the Chancellor at the Nubian Festival of Light."

"How do you know about the mission - spy, right, mmm hmm."

"The Republic would be better off just offing Palps altogether."

"You and Satine have remarkably similar attitudes regarding Republic legislature," Obi-Wan muttered while he stared at his comlink.

Quinlan raised his eyebrows at the quiet words. He had a feeling he had to probe gently...one always had to, if it involved the Duchess.

But again - he was Quinlan Vos. Gently wasn't his style.

"I'm honestly surprised she took you back, considering how many times you cheated on her last time you were together."

"Quin - "

"What was it - nine, ten times?"

"She cheated on me too...it... wasn't a healthy relationship. I admit that now."

Quinlan cocked his head, studying his friend and trying to figure out what the hell was wrong. It didn't take a genius to figure out that the mission was stressing him out, but there seemed to be more… Of course he could always touch Obi-Wan and figure out through shatter-point, but that would involve _effort _and he'd done that enough when under cover the past few months and he really didn't want to trigger any weird symptoms like a seizure or something.

"Well if there isn't any drugs or alcohol or cheating what can you two possibly be stressed about - _oh. _Damn Obes, really? Bad fucking timing."

Obi-Wan pressed his lips together, grasping the cup tightly. He eventually took in a shaky breath, wiping at his eyes. "It was an accident."

"In my experience nothing is an accident."

"Don't go maverick space-monk on me. All I hear is Qui-Gon." Obi-Wan shook his head. "...she doesn't want the baby."

"She's gonna abort?"

"I...I don't know. It'll hurt so much if she does but... it's her body, not mine. I'll stand beside her no matter what but...gods."

Quinlan took another sip of tea and glanced out the window. In the refracted light window they looked so _old. _"I remember when Siri had hers. It's a whole different grieving - why the face?"

Obi-Wan looked like someone had punched him, then kicked his puppy. "Siri...Siri had an abortion? When?"

"Umm...God, we were about twenty-something. You'd been on Mandalore for about eight months by then. She wasn't very far along. I drove her to Coruscant Medical and back. Even though she didn't want it fucked her up for awhile."

"...how come I didn't know?"

Quinlan turned to look at him again, forcing a smile. "You don't ask, Obes. Or communicate...you inherited _that _from Qui-Gon Jinn."

* * *

The clink of a tray against the caf table brought Padmé out of her concentration. She looked up from the datapad to the bowl of soup and a glass of sparkling lemon juice, and then to her smirking handmaiden. "Thank you, Dormé."

"Of course." Dormé pulled the pill organizer she had shoved in her pocket, her long brown hair falling to one side. She dumped out the night pills and handed them to Padmé.

"Thank you."

"Master Windu called, by the way. He wanted to go over last minute arrangements before you head to Naboo for the Festival of Light."

Padmé swallowed three pills and raised her eyebrows. "Last minute details about what?"

"Security, I believe. There are rumors of an assassin that wishes to kill the Chancellor and - "

"Security? Assassin?" Padmé tapped her fingers against the datapad. "Why haven't I been told this?"

She sighed when Dormé shrugged. "Anakin probably convinced the Council I need the same amount of security as the Chancellor."

"With all due respect, my lady - you tend to find yourself in some... interesting situations. Some security would be nice at an event like the Festival of - "

"Dormé...I will tell you what I tell Padawan Tano - I am no stranger to taking risks. Tell Captain Typho to speak to Master Windu on my behalf. Whatever security the Chancellor and the Queen will be more than enough for me."

"General Skywalker won't - "

Padmé raised an eyebrow, putting the datapad next to the tray so she could type and eat at the same time. "Is my husband, not my slaver. I will make decisions about my safety and life even if he disagrees."

Dormé gave a small, bemused shake of her head before leaving to find Captain Typho.

She glanced at the soup, suddenly not hungry.

_Why does everyone try to make decisions about my life regardless of my consent? I'm traveling to Naboo, not Geonosis. I don't need protection on my own planet._

She shook her head, swallowing the last of the pills.

At that moment, the lock on the apartment door chirped before sliding open, revealing a bedraggled and very tired Anakin.

Did her heart skip a beat when she saw him?

Of course it did. It always did when she saw him, alive and well in their home. Doing her best to smile and put away her frustrations for another time, she murmured, "Hi sweetie."

Anakin waved limply in her general direction, stepping into the apartment and tugging off his boots. Dropping them unceremoniously in the small alcove beside the door, he came into the sitting room and collapsed face first into the cushions of the sofa.

Padmé - seated not far from where he had collapsed - stretched out a hand to stroke his curly hair. She hoped her wrist brace wouldn't get caught in his hair. Again. _It really needs a trim,_ she thought abstractly. "Long day?"

His groan sounded more like a whimper. "Mmm hmm."

"Classes? Training Ahsoka? Meetings?"

Anakin shifted to his side, the top of his head pressing into her thigh. He put his bionic arm on her knee, thumb moving over the joint.

Pressing Anakin for answers never yielded any good results - it was easier to wait it out and let him control the speed of which he gave information.

"22 of my students in Quadratic Mechanics failed the stimulation."

She made a noise of sympathy, keeping her hand twisted in his hair. "Out of 25?"

"Yeah." He sighed, eyes squeezing shut. "The Council's been on me about a couple of kids failing the class."

Frowning, Padmé moved her hand to his neck and began to massage to tense muscles there. "Any way you can help them?"

" 'm trying. But Devon and Amos-Dem are heading into the Agri Corps, Notalie wants to be a healer, and Judas doesn't care."

"I'm sorry, Ani."

"Not your fault," he mumbled with a shrug, hand stilling on her knee. "Ahsoka passed at least."

"That's good." Padmé leaned back into the cushions. She heard Captain Typho walk in.

"Didn't Obi-Wan come back from Mand - "

"My lady - "

Anakin grinned suddenly, craning his neck to look at her. His shone shown with a mirth she hadn't seen in awhile. "There are a few red marks on his neck that look suspiciously like hickeys."

Padmé had been turning her head to question the captain, and caught sight of his shocked expression. She fought the smile on her face, managing to school her face into one of neutrality. "Captain?"

"It can wait, Senator," he muttered, turning around and walking out of the sitting room with a shake of his head. "It can wait."

* * *

_Author's note: now how many haters and threats will I receive for discussing abortion? *cue frustrated eyeroll*_

_Agree with it or don't - just don't harass me, and accept this is a work of fiction._

_On a person level, if you do choose to harass me - know that I have two genetic conditions, one of which is severe Endometriosis and the other M.E. The conditions combined make me disabled. I have uterine tissues growing where it should not. My pain is so severe from the M.E. and Endo that I rely on a cane most days to walk._

_I struggle to make it through the day without heavy pain meds and barely manage both my conditions and its comorbidities. I know full well the struggles regarding reproductive health. The terror that there are some people in the world that want to take away my medications and treatments that help me live a bit more comfortably is very real...all because they think the world would be better off without us or that we are simple vessels for men and children._

_THAT'S why I include disability in my fics so heavily. Because I don't see it represented in the fandom that helps keeps me sane. _

_So don't judge anyone's story, no matter what. You don't know what they are going through._

_Take care my dears_

_ii Digestive Reader ii_


	15. Tonight's the Night

Chapter Fifteen: Tonight's the Night

* * *

Obi-Wan smoothed his hands over his tunic, trying not to shake. Hours...he had two, maybe three before this dratted mission began.

He didn't want to do it. He didn't want to listen to Anakin's screams, the Galaxy mourning while he went undercover as Rako Hardeen and _saved the Chancellor._

_For Anakin to be angry with me when I come back._

_Quinlan's right. I should just let him die._

Closing his eyes, he stumbled back onto his hard bed and sat on it heavily. He could feel the metal frame through the mattress.

There was still time to back out. Mace had been adamant about that.

He could back out until the shot rang.

"Why am I not doing it?" Obi-Wan pushed a hand through his hair, tugging at the roots. Head back to Sundari, listen to his dear girl while she raged at him for being stupid, beg her to understand that he was done choosing the Jedi over her.

...over their child.

Satine had gone to the gynecologist the moment she had landed on Sundari. She'd commed him in the parking lot, crying because this _wasn't supposed to happen. _Because she had endured the looks and the whispers because she was a Mandalorian woman pregnant before marriage, because everyone in the entire kriffing Galaxy could figure out who the father was, that he had let her be alone and scared during the ultrasound and fearing a future he wouldn't survive his mission, fearing a future where she chose to raise a child she didn't want without it's father.

"What kind person am I?" He looked out at the Coruscanti night, staring at the thousands of lights.

A comlink chirped through his thoughts.

_Mace._

_It was time._

* * *

A hand fell heavy onto her shoulder, disturbing her dream-like state.

"Ahsoka."

"I didn't do it!" Ahsoka yelped, sitting up in her seat with her hands in the air - one of which smacked into something vaguely nose-shaped. She turned around at the grunt, horrified at what she saw. "Master Kenobi! I'm so sorry!"

Obi-Wan Kenobi was pinching the bridge of his nose, staring up at the ceiling. "That's quite alright, Ahsoka. I haven't broken my nose in awhile."

"I broke it?!" She squeaked, which was followed by a rather loud 'shhh' from a group of padawans nearby. "Sorry."

"I hardly believe you did." He pulled his hand away, inspecting it for blood before looking to Ahsoka. The collar of his tunic shifted, revealing a path of red marks on his neck. "Did you fall asleep while studying?"

Ahsoka rubbed her arm sheepishly. Master Skywalker catching her sleeping instead of studying was one thing - but Master Kenobi? "Yeah."

Master Kenobi shook his head and sighed. "At least you attempt to study."

"SkyGuy didn't?" Ahsoka asked, beginning to pick up her books. She couldn't quite picture her Master having the patience to learn in a classroom.

"He tried his best." Master Kenobi folded his arms over his chest,a small smile on his face. "Do you have a moment, Ahsoka? I found an ancient holodisk at the Kryze Clan Library I thought would interest you."

_Kryze Clan Library? _She nodded, books folded in her arms. "Sure. Lead the way."

* * *

"When was the last time this room was used?" Ahsoka asked when they walked into the ancient holo chamber, setting her books on the table.

Master Kenobi smiled, heading to the ancient machine and booting it up. The machine coughed a few times before the engines and fans started. "There was a rumor when I was a padawan that these were placed here when the Ancient Jedi founded the Temple."

"I highly doubt it's a rumor," Ahsoka muttered, eyeing the thick layer of dust. "What's this holo about?"

"Togruta warriors during the Mandalorian-Jedi war."

She squinted at him in the darkness, not sure she'd heard him correctly. "There were were Togruta warriors in the Mandalorian army during the war with the Jedi?"

"Indeed there were." Master Kenobi fiddled with the knobs, then produced an ancient looking holodisk from his tunic pocket and plugged it into the holoreader. "Watch."

"If you insist."

Ahsoka folded her arms and rocked back on her heels, watching of Torgruta soldiers pop up on screen and begin to train. Minutes crawled into an hour - she didn't quite understand the point of this until something caught her eye.

She squinted upon seeing a familiar crest, and then leaned forward in excitement. "Wait wait wait. Pause that."

Master Kenobi chuckled, pausing the holo. "See something familiar, Ahsoka?"

"That's the Tano crest!" She looked at him, not quite believing her eyes. "The Tano's fought against the Jedi?!"

"Not quite. Watch." He hit the play button again, a knowing smirk on his face.

Ahsoka watched closely when the recording changed scenes, surprised to watch a female Togruta soldier run onto a battlefield and ignite a gleaming amethyst lightsaber. She swung with terrifying accuracy, disarming but not killing every Mandalorian on the battlefield. There was a grin on her face, one that was somewhere between bloodthirsty and ecstatic.

"That's General Javadeva Tano. She created a peace treaty between the Mandalorians and the Jedi - granted it was short-lived. She was highly respected by everyone, Jedi and Mandalorian alike." Master Kenobi smiled sadly. "When fighting stalled, she left the Jedi to start a family on Shili. We have reason to believe you're descended from her, Ahsoka."

Ahsoka stared at the tall Togruta general, now cloaked in what might have been a brown robe and holding hands with a Togruta male. "Wow."

She watched Javadeva train in hand-to-hand combat before the holo stopped, freezing the image in time. "She's incredible."

"On that we agree." Master Kenobi fingers went over the controls of console. The Togruta disappeared. The holodisk popped out of the holoreader. "Duchess Satine thought you would appreciate it."

Ahsoka gave him a sidelong glance, fingers tapping against her arm. She had heard whispers from in the Temple Halls and in the streets that Master Kenobi and the Duchess of Mandalore had something more than a lost-standing friendship. Some people seemed to sneer at it, muttering phrases like 'Negotiator's whore' and 'Pacifist Weakling.' The Holonet found the relationship endearing, but then again, anything to do with possible romance and scandal was endearing to them. "

"How was your trip anyways?"

"It was...eventful. Her Grace is a good friend. We have known each other for years." Master Kenobi put the holo into its container. He frowned when his comlink beeped, and dug it out of his tunic. "Kenobi."

The figure of Anakin Skywalker shimmered into his palm. "Guess who was chosen to inspect a shipment of guns at the 501st barracks?"

"Oh, I cannot possibly imagine." Master Kenobi shook his head, beckoning Ahsoka to follow him out of the chamber. "Where should we meet you?"

"Hangar is fine."

"Can I fly?" Ahsoka asked, jostling Obi-Wan's arm while she moved to be in view of the comlink's projection capabilities. "Please Master?"

"Maybe." Anakin gave a mocking salute before cutting the transmission.

Master Kenobi watched the image disappear, his gaze not quite focused on what was in front of him.

Ahsoka frowned, touching him gently on the arm while walked. "Master? Are you okay?"

Master Kenobi blinked, glancing over at her and offering a weak smile. Without a word, he halted in his tracks and took her wrist. He pressed the holodisk into her palm. "Here. You should keep this."

"Won't...won't the Duchess mind?"

"If she asks - tell her I gave it to you." His eyes twinkled with some sort of secret. "Shall we meet your master in the hangar, Ahsoka?"

She nodded, putting the disk in her belt. "Lead the way, Obi-Wan."

"I will grant you the privilege of speaking my first name when you pass your trials, Padawan Tano." Master Kenobi folded his hands behind his back.

"You can't say I didn't try."

"That is true."

The Halls of the Temple were beginning to quiet down at this time. Older padawans were either heading to night classes or not so secretly sneaking out of the Temple to head to the bars. Knights were few and far inbetween in the halls - many of them were probably settling in a common room to read, heading to training, or doing any number of things really.

Ahsoka put her hands behind her head while they walked to the elevator shaft and stepped in. "Why do I have a bad feeling about this?"

Master Kenobi sighed, punching in the floor they needed to head to. "That...is something I have asked myself for weeks."

"What?"

"Nevermind, my Padawan."

* * *

In the barracks, Captain Rex stared at them blankly in the reception room of the 501st cargo hold building. "I don't know what you're talking about, sir. We had no shipment tonight."

Anakin raised his eyebrows, arms folded over his chest while he stared at the Clone captain. "I got the shipment orders, Rex."

Rex, wearing a long sleeve compression shirt and lounge pants, shrugged and leaned against the reception desk. He tended to lose some formalities around them now - such as staying in civvies when talking to them. "Is it possible that the 503rd received the shipment? They have messed up the numbers of the divisions before."

"Maybe. I'll have to ask Master Windu what happened."

"Sounds like a plan, sir. One that doesn't involve me falling down something."

Ahsoka snickered, watching her Master roll his eyes and huff. She glanced to the door when Master Kenobi walked back inside of the barracks, stuffing his comlink into his belt.

"Everything okay, General?" Rex asked, frowning while he caught sight of Master Kenobi's tight expression.

"We need to head back to the Temple."

Anakin raised an eyebrow at the authoritative tone, but nodded nonetheless and followed Master Kenobi out.

Rex touched her arm before she left. "Something up with the Generals?"

"I don't know, Rexie. I don't know." Ahsoka shook her head before hurrying after her masters. She caught up to them quickly, breathing in the thick, polluted air of Coruscant while Anakin spoke.

"So what's the big rush?"

"The Jedi Council has called an emergency meeting."

Anakin sighed in irritation. "I can see it now. Another long, boring debate."

Master Kenobi rolled his eyes.

Ahsoka laughed, glancing from the ship in front of them to Anakin. "Would you rather they call you in to train younglings?"

Ananin gave her a disbelieving stare. "Are you crazy?"

The ship was before them, but before they made it up the ramp, a shot rang out. Master Kenobi side-stepped out of the way and dove behind one of the many cargo boxes strewn around the landing platform.

Ahsoka darted behind the cargo boxes opposite of him, feeling Anakin beside her. She tried to peer around the cargo boxes to catch sight of whom was shooting at them, but a red blaster nearly shot her in the face.

"Any idea where that shot came from?" Master Kenobi asked, his voice impeccably calm for such a serious situation.

Ahsoka tried again, searching the tops of the buildings before seeing a dark figure. "A sniper. I see him up there!"

Master Kenobi spoke quickly, his words sounding almost rehearsed. "All right, here's the plan. Anakin, you flank him on the right. Ahsoka, you cover the lower streets. I'm going after him."

He rose first, blue lightsaber ignited and gleaming in the darkness around them.

Ahsoka took the lower streets, running parallel of the sniper's path. She could hear her masters' Force jumping up the side of the building and sprinting after the sniper.

She slowed to a stop upon losing sight of the sniper, about to speak into the comlink when Anakin's voice crackled through.

"I lost him! Obi-Wan, do you have anything?"

Master Kenobi didn't respond.

Ahsoka craned her neck, trying to see what was happening up above. She sensed moved, and held her breath when a lone gunshot rang out.

Someone was falling over the side of the building. _Obi-Wan Kenobi _was falling down the side of the building, landing with a sickening thud in a pile of cargo boxes ten meters away.

She stared at the spot, waiting for Master Kenobi to pop up, smile, and sass Anakin for standing around dilly-dallying while there was a public threat to catch.

Nothing happened.

"Obi-Wan!" Anakin shouted, the fear in his eyes visible from two stories above.

Ahsoka shook herself from the fear and looked up. "I got him, go!"

Anakin looked ready to protest, but his face hardened a moment later. He ran off, disappearing between the roof tops.

She rushed to Master Kenobi, pushing away the cargo boxes with the Force. Bile climbed into her throat when she took in his lifeless, white skin. There was a red mark on his cream-tunic. Blood. "Master Kenobi. _Master Kenobi."_

She dropped to her knees, grabbing his wrist for a pulse. There was a faint flicker. "You're not dying on - "

Master Kenobi grasped her wrist, head shaking. His eyes closed a moment later, his Force signature ebbing away to nothing.

The heat of his final breath seared into her skin.

"How is he?" Anakin asked when he came back, skidding to a stop before them.

Ahsoka looked up at her master, tears in her eyes. She couldn't bring herself to say anything.

Anakin knelt, shaking his master on the shoulder. His voice got more and more desperate. "Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan. _Obi-Wan!"_

He grasped Master Kenobi's wrist, feeling for a pulse and sobbing when he couldn't find one.

* * *

_Author's note: well hello there _

_I apologise for the hiatus - junior year of college began a few weeks ago, and my life had been madness besides that. I haven't really had time to breathe._

_For being so patient - here's angst, angst, and more angst. Most of the chapters will be very familiar if you read the now deleted "Cyar'ika Jett'i" - I'm just changing a few plotlines here and there._

_Enjoy my dears - let me know what you think._

_ii Digestive Reader ii_


	16. Something Amiss

Chapter Sixteen: Something Amiss

* * *

Padmé knew something was wrong when her husband's comlink chirped and he was forced to leave the comfort of their home to address the shipment problem. She remembered his cheeky grin when he noticed her worry, the quick peck on the lips and the promise of something more before he left to fulfill the role of Jedi knight.

She lay on her bed, curled on her side, watching the traffic of Coruscant whiz past her window.

She just…

Waited.

Then the transmission came, and she'd fumbled with the comlink on the nightstand, listening in horror while Jedi Master Ki-Adi-Mundi told her the events of the night and "_you need to come to the Temple. Preferably sooner rather than later."_

Instinct told Padmé not to bring security or handmaidens.

The voice that sounded like Sabé told her not to be stupid.

She ignored that voice.

Padmé rose stiffly, taking a cloak from the closet and shrugging it on. She toed on boots before leaving the bedchamber, only to turn around and take the comlink and ship keycard and her drivers ID.

She heard voices from the kitchen, though she ignored them.

She knew it was a bad idea to leave without anyone with her... something was bound to happen.

She hadn't even drive herself since the Blue Shadow Virus caused her body to go haywire.

Quietly, she left the apartment and took the lift to the hangar. The Nubian guards gave her a curious look while she went to her speeder-bike.

"Tell Captain Typho I'll be at the Temple," she muttered while swinging her leg over the seat. Something popped inside her hip, and she bit back a grimace.

The guards glanced at each other, and finally one of them opened the hangar.

She blinked a few times, then settled her helmet over her head, keyed the ignition, drove into Coruscant traffic.

The lights nearly gave her a shock. She tried not to flinch at the smells of gasoline and smog, or the honks or shouting or the several lanes of traffic.

Swallowing down the bile, she tried to let a decade of driving take over. The Temple wasn't far. She found quickly she needed to be in the slow lane, but even that was to slow for drivers.

Though she could see the Temple before her, it seemed to take years before the Jedi landing platform looked underneath her.

She piloted it carefully to the pavement, aware how tight her knuckles were on the handles.

Adi Gallia was waiting for her on the landing platform, her cloak billowing in the wind.

She loosened her grip on the handles and cut the engine, nodding to the Temple guard when he darted forward to take care of the speeder.

"How are they?" Padmé asked once Adi had embraced her. The two women weren't particularly close, but death had a tendency to bring the living together.

"Master Mundi is beside Anakin, and Master Plo Koon is comforting Ahsoka." Adi tucked her hands behind her back, lips pressed into a hard line while they walked into the Temple. "Master Mundi thought it wise to contact you."

Padmé nodded, remembering that Mundi had once been Anakin's master for a short time. The two weren't terribly close, but got along well enough.

"Master Mundi has always had a soft spot for Anakin." Gallia smiled at her startled glance. "I apologize, I sensed your thoughts about Master Mundi and felt I should comment."

"Yes, well…" Padmé folded the cloak - Anakin's cloak, actually - tighter around her, and thought of the Cerean master. "Didn't Master Mundi once say that Ahsoka reminds of his daughter Sylvn?"

"How did you know about that?" Gallia asked, raising her eyebrows. "Master Mundi does not speak much of his family."

"I was present on Cerea a few months back - he was kind enough to offer sanctuary for myself and staff at his home. I met his wives and daughters."

Gallia palmed open the door to the Temple. "When Master Mundi does speak of his family, it is with love and grace. He has always wished for one of his daughters to exhibit Force-sensitivity."

Padmé couldn't help but smile a bit, continuing the light conversation while ignoring what the situation that was coming closer with every step.

The Jedi the public knew was vastly different than the ones she knew, who tripped over familial titles and admitted that relationships could become far more complex than they originally were taught to believe.

There were, of course, others schools of thought within the Order…

She tended to avoid those Jedi, if she could help it.

They stopped talking upon nearing the Healing Halls. Padmé was no Jedi, but years of politics and living with her husband had made her highly perceptive. Even she could sense the cloud of death and despair that hung over the individuals huddled outside the Healing Halls.

She had been in this part of the Temple only a few times - when Anakin had his arm replaced, when Obi-Wan _and _Anakin had to be treated for hypothermia following the mission on Orto Platonia, when Ahsoka had been recovering from the Geonosian Worms…

Cushion-covered benches lined the outside of the Healing Halls. Two white pillars graced the entrance of the tall doors, though they were more for decoration and functionality.

Florescent sconces hung at various points on the walls, dimmed for nighttime. The light didn't reach the corners of the entrance., causing the potted plants and herbs to look eerie and foreboding.

Padmé tried to ignore the antiseptic smell lingering in the air while she stepped forward, feeling tears prick at her eyes when she studied the scene before her.

Anakin was sitting on the floor, legs drawn to his chest and his head buried in his hands. He seemed not to notice Mundi crouched beside him, or anyone for that matter.

She wondered if Anakin even realized she was there.

Ahsoka was sobbing, leaning into Plo Koon and trying to speak despite his murmurs to take a breath and calm down. Blood stained her clothes. She glanced up when the Kel Dor master nudged her, rubbing at her eyes and blinking in disbelief.

"Padmé!" Ahsoka exclaimed, jumping up from the bench. "Thank the Force _you're _okay."

Padmé stepped forward to catch the Togruta Padawan in an embrace, trying not to grimace at the weight against her tender joints. Her heart was pounding in her chest, faster than it had in days. She held Ahsoka close, feeling the Japor Snippet she always wore dig into her chest. The Jedi masters surrounding them remained quiet, letting them have a moment alone - and for that she was grateful.

Ahsoka sniffled, wiping at her eyes when she withdrew from the hug. The cloak she wore dwarfed her small frame - probably given to her when... "Why are you here?"

Master Mundi spoke, his voice heavy. "I contacted the Senator."

Adi Gallia whispered at Padmé's side, her voice catching. "Anakin hasn't spoken a word since…"

_Since Obi-Wan died._

Padmé could imagine the scene all too well.

Anakin would have gathered Obi-Wan in his arms, leaving Ahsoka to contact the paramedics and the Temple. He would have been crying, knowing it was impossible to wake the man who had raised him.

Mace Windu and Master...Mundi, maybe, would have arrived at the same time as the paramedics. Mundi would have held Anakin back while Mace and the paramedics put Obi-Wan's _body _onto a stretcher.

Mace Windu would be the very essence of calm, climbing into the ambulance and flying to the Temple.

Master Mundi would have forced Anakin not to fly - it would be easy to do this, as Anakin would have been to shell-shocked to do anything but comply. Mundi would have allowed Ahsoka to pilot the _Twilight _because Force forbid anyone touch it's controls beside her and Anakin.

Padmé swallowed hard, and made her way to her husband. The Cerean master stood, giving them space. She nodded her thanks, and knelt to the ground. Everyone was watching her.

"Anakin," she murmured, touching her fingers to his wrist. Metal glinted in the low light - her wedding band. But in this very moment, when they were grieving for a friend and brother, she didn't really care who put the pieces together and realized the truth. "Anakin, look at me."

She was close enough to notice that his lips were moving and his eyes were open. But noise did not come out of his mouth, nor did his eyes focus on anything in particular.

"Ani, please. You're in shock."

A pregnant pause filled the air when Anakin glanced up and caught sight of her. He blinked a few times, like he was wondering why she was there. "Him. They won't let je stuka." _They won't let me see him._

She didn't know Huttese well, but she could understand and speak enough. "They?"

"Anyone know Huttese?" Mundi asked quietly, though his questioned went unanswered.

"Mace um Yoda."

"Oh…"

"Satine."

_Oh gods…_

Tears brightened Anakin's bright blue eyes.

"Satine needs to be told."

* * *

Satine hummed to the pop song while she typed, foot tapping on the side of her desk. She had been taking comms or having meetings all day - focusing on flimsiwork felt like a treat compared to arguing with her fellow Mandalorians over this bill or that proposal.

Somewhere in the distance, one of the temples chimed 1pm. She looked at her clock, realizing she hadn't eaten since...she didn't even know. Everything came up anyways nowadays.

The gynecologist had given her a list of foods she could tolerate, but the thought of actually giving that list the cooks...that made her sicker.

With a grimace she pushed her seat back, massaging her stiff neck. Half of her wished for Obi-Wan to be here, laughing while she slid into his lap and groaned about being the ruler of a bunch of stubborn idiots.

Biting her lip, Satine tugged the shawl from the back of her chair and wrapped it around her shoulders. Taking her formal comlink, she punched in the kitchen frequency.

A young woman popped upwards. _"Ma'am?"_

"Could someone perhaps send a cheese toastie and a cup of sapnir to my study? Maybe a side of fruit too? I realized I forgot lunch."

The woman nodded, writing it down somewhere to the side. _"Of course Your Highness - it'll be there shortly."_

"Thank you."

Satine watched the hologram fizzle out, then sighed at the silence again. She plucked her personal comlink up, turning the radio up while she went to the window seat.

There were several messages from her siblings, as usual...and several dozen from Padmé.

She sighed, pressing her lips together. She _knew _what those messages were about.

She prayed that Obi-Wan had the balls to tell Anakin the truth before it was too late.

With a sigh she punched in Padmé's frequency manually, not ready for the other woman's eerie calm.

Anakin Skywalker shimmered into exist, his back to her. His voice was low and hoarse while he was talking to...Padmé.

"Anakin. Padmé."

_"Satine!"_ Padmé stepped around her husband, face tight with anxiousness and worry. She looked like she hadn't slept in a day, and had fargone a shower, judging by the way her hair was scraped into a messy ponytail. But...she always looked like she hadn't slept in a day since the Blue Shadow Virus debacle… _"Are you okay?"_

"Define okay, my friend." Satine watched the knight's shoulders stiffen at the phrase. She frowned, not understanding the hurried, tense discussion in Huttese between the pair.

Anakin walked away when his comlink chirped, squeezing Padmé's hand.

She didn't fail to notice the way his shoulders were slumped.

"Padmé...what in _haran_ is going on? What's wrong?"

_My God, Obi-Wan I can't believe you can't believe you actually went through with this mission…_

The events of the night tumbled out. A mysterious shipment order had come in late at night, and Anakin had asked Obi-Wan and Ahsoka to accompany him.

An emergency High Council meeting had been called before the shipment order problem could be resolved.

A sniper had opened fire in the outside the cargo hold.

Obi-Wan - shot near the heart. Dead before resuscitation could begin. Braid dead by the time the ambulance arrived.

The Jedi were releasing a public statement by nightfall, Coruscant standard time.

A warrant was being issued for the sniper - a man named Rako Hardeen.

The funeral was set for the beginning of next week.

She was the first to be commed - but the last to know of Obi-Wan's friends and family...she was listed as...as domestic partner. She had to come to Coruscant to sign all the necessary documents.

Anakin was barely speaking - shock had set quickly, and had refused to shake loose.

Ahsoka was granted four days leave from the Jedi Order - the trauma of having one of her master's die in her arms was deemed too much for a young mind. She was currently sleeping fitfully on Padmé's sofa.

Padmé finished, her eyes watery and her smile weak. "I'm so sorry, Satine."

Satine nodded, limbs heavy and mind numb. She braced herself against the holoprojector, feeling tears trickle down her cheeks.

_Obi-Wan's alive...why the fuck am I crying?_

"Satine?"

"I'll...I'll be at the funeral, Padmé."

"Do you want a Jedi escort to be sent?"

Satine shook her head. "No, that will not be necessary." She raised her head and offered a weak smile to the senator of Naboo. "I wish to be alone right now, if you don't mind."

"I will comm you tonight, Satine." It was a statement, not a suggestion.

She spoke her farewells without emotion, watching the blue holo fizzle out of existence.

She remembered the look on Obi-Wan's face less than twenty-fours ago, the softness of his words when she'd commed him from the gynecologist parking garage, scared and shaking and wanting some scrap of comfort.

* * *

_Author's note: well hello there ;)_

_I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I wrote it very sleepy and in a flare. _

_Let me know what you think (and how Obi-Wan may or may not be unraveling…) ;)_

_I plan to post a few times in the next few days - one oneshot related to this fic, and probably a new chapter of "The Name Jinn" :D_

_Enjoy my dears - I'll see you at Obi-Wan's funeral_

_ii Digestive Reader ii_


	17. Breaking News

Chapter Seventeen: Breaking News

* * *

"_Good morning, citizens of the Republic. This is Natalie Kipling reporting from Coruscanti News Alpha. Before we begin our usual program we have received some breaking news from the one and only Jedi Order."_

Across the galaxy, civilians and bounty hunters alike were pausing in their routines and turning toward screens and projections, curious at the incoming news. Thousands of clones turned from their training to watch, no matter where they were.

On Kashyyyk, Bant Eerin and her commanding officers were staring at the holo, flanked by a few Wookies.

"_As of twenty-three hundred Coruscant standard time, Jedi master and Major General Obi-Wan Kenobi of Stew-Jon was struck in the chest and killed by a bounty hunter that is currently unidentified."_

Bant stiffened, watching with wide eyes while grainy footage of a chase was shown. She could make out the cargo hold of the 501st, and the bright orange skin of Ahsoka Tano. The dynamic duo was a bit harder to spot, but they could still be seen, running after the bounty hunter.

The footage stilled just before Obi-Wan's body hit a pile of cargo boxes. _"Unfortunately, that's all the footage we were given. The Jedi Order and the Supreme Chancellor refuse to release any more than is necessary - we were told it was to protect legalities."_

Natalie's blue face popped back on screen. Her lekku's bobbed with every word she spoke._"When asked about plans for a funeral, Jedi Master of the Order and Lieutenant General Mace Windu says, and I quote, "Master Kenobi was a dear friend and wise council. For such an untimely end, we can only pray to the Force that his soul finds peace," end quote. The Chancellor has yet to give a statement."_

"I need to sit down," Bant mumbled, glancing away. A furry paw rested on her shoulder and guided her to a wooden chair, where she put her head between her knees for a moment.

"_...Amidala and Organa were contacted shortly after we learned of Kenobi's death. In their joint statement, they said that Obi-Wan was a friend who always knew what to say, and never doubted one's abilities unless they had been drinking Corellian whiskey." _The holo flickered, revealing a news room and a second reporter - Daisy Rey, the brunette human reporter everyone in the Temple always tried to avoid.

"_Anyone word on Skywalker or Tano, Daisy?"_

"_I'm afraid not, Natalie. Jedi Knight and Brigadier General Anakin Skywalker has yet to say anything to the press, aside from a statement not to harass his padawan, as she is a minor by Coruscanti law. He has not been seen in the Senate building this morning, where he typically escorts politicians to morning debates. All we know is that the Third Systems Army - which was previously under the command of Kenobi - will be under Skywalker's command as well as the 501st until further notice."_

"You okay, sir?"

Bant shrugged, wrapping her arms around herself while staring at the holo.

"_That's a lot of responsibility for one man, even if he is the Hero With No Fear." _Daisy smiled at the camera, her eyes glinting like a lothcat. _"For those viewers who are wondering - we have reaching out to Duchess Kryze of Mandalore, who has blocked our communication attempts. No word has been given to how she is doing right now, but-"_

"_One can assume it's not well, Daisy. Have you seen the way they look at each other? Here's the pair of them only two months ago, at Aya Krennic's wedding on Alderrann."_

The Holo flickered, and the galaxy was witness to a video clip that made Bant want to rip Obi-Wan from the afterlife and scream at him in frustration. He was standing beside the Duchess in a crowd, holding a wine glass and bending down to mutter something in her ear. The video was inaudible, but whatever he said caused her to laugh and dig an elbow into his ribs.

_You really are Jinn's apprentice, Obi-Wan. Always following your heart instead of your mind. _Bant shook her head and stood. "I'm going for a walk, gentlemen."

* * *

Upon walking into the Duchess' apartments, Lady Christo was greeted to the sight of dimmed windows, the HoloNet playing at low volume, and a mound of blankets on the sofa. She clucked her tongue in sympathy and crossed the room, where she set the tray of tea down.

"You shouldn't be watching any of this, m'lady."

The mound shifted, and blonde hair poked out. "...I want to know what everyone is saying."

Christo shook her head. "Have you eaten anything today?"

"I did. Then I threw up like I have every morning for the past three. It's simply delightful." Satine pushed herself into a sitting position, turning the Holo on mute. Her eyes were bloodshot and mascara was rubbed around her cheeks.

"At least he died surrounded by people he loved." Christo moved to the curtains and pulled them open, causing a groan from the Duchess.

"It doesn't seem real. None of this seems real," Satine muttered to herself.

Christo sighed, staring outside the window a moment. She could spot various speeders moving along the lines of traffic, and could imagine everyone's shock when they heard the news. Regardless how anyone on Kavaleva felt of the Jedi master, few could deny how much he loved Mandalore and all its imperfections.

_No one can deny his love for it's ruler, either, _she mused, turning back around to study the Duchess, who had grasped the tea and was sipping it slowly. The past two days had not been kind to the Duchess. _Pregnant and...widowed? In a matter of hours._

Satine had hardly given herself a moment to collect herself.

Christo pressed her lips together, knowing that within an hour, the Duchess would scrub any sign of her grief and would be striding to her meetings for the day.

"Christo?" Satine glanced up at her, looking sad and pitiful. "Is something wrong?"

"No, m'lady." She moved to the rest of the curtains, speaking all the while. "Have you cancelled your appointments that conflict with the funeral?"

Satine didn't answer.

Christo frowned, finishing her task and turning around. Her heart went out in sympathy upon witnessing the silent tears making their way down the Duchess's face. "M'lady?"

"Christo, gedet'ye. Gedet'ye. You've known me since I was in my mother's womb."

"Alitit ori'shya tal'din." Christo smiled softly at Satine's huff, and went to the sofa. She sat down carefully, and reached out a hand to brush Satine's hair out of her face. "I served your mother for many years, Satine. And before I served you I was in service to your sister-in-law. You know what that means?"

"That you deserve the comfiest retirement in Galatic history for putting up with three Kryze tempers?"

"Well that," she smiled at the Duchess's soft laugh before her features settled into a grim expression. "It also means I can tell when a Kryze woman is scared."

Satine took a sip of her forgotten tea in hand and leaned back. "I'm about to head to Coruscant and attend the funeral of my dead Jedi lover...who's...I'm - someone will no doubt notice I'm...not in the best of situations."

"You don't wish to be confronted?"

"How can I want that, Christo?!" Satine slammed her tea on the caff table and stood, beginning to pace around the room.

"The only person who knows I'm - you know - are you and - I can't - what if they demand I give the child up when it's - what if I'm never allowed to - I can't - gods damn it, we have mir'osik!_"_

"Nu kyr'adyc, shi taab'echaaj'la."

Satine stopped in the middle of the room, folding her arms around her stomach. "I don't know what to do, Christo."

Christo sighed heavily, turning the Holo off when it began to play the Chancellor's long awaited commentary on the matter. "Hypothetically, my lady - would it be any easier if Master Kenobi was alive? You would have a different set of problems and - "

"Obi-Wan's...Obi-Wan's alive." Satine ran a hand through her hair and expelled a shaky breath, ignoring Christo's shock and disbelief. She glanced toward the door of her bedchamber. "Can you tell Ambassador Marr I will be a tad bit behind schedule? I have a feeling it will take me a bit longer to get ready this morning."

"Are you sure it wouldn't be wise to simply cancel your... meetings." Christo sighed when the Duchess disappeared into her bedchamber, and dug out her comlink.

"That girl will run herself to the ground," she murmured, punching in the needed frequency on the comlink. She did her best to ignore the quiet sobs from the 'fresher, and stepped into the hall to contact the ambassador.

* * *

Sabé heard the news only a day before the funeral was supposed to take place. She didn't know how she managed to avoid it until then, but then again, the Holo was constantly making stuff up and reporting deaths that later proved false.

She was speaking to the Queen in the Royal Palace of Theed, listening to the news with half-an-ear, more focused on the Festival of Light preparations than the droning of the reporters.

"We should have a decoy, Your - "

"Absolutely not, Sabé. The Festival of Light is sacred. I will not miss it, even under the threat of my life or the Chancellor's. And that is final."

Sabé felt her nostrils flare, though she tried to keep her frustration from seeping into her voice. "My lady, please. Eleven former queens will be in attendance. We cannot be skimp on any sort of protection, even yours. Especially yours."

Queen Neeyutnee shook her head and turned from the window she was staring out of. Without the face makeup and elaborate headdresses, it was easy to tell she was only seventeen.

An old monarch, by Nubian standards - and almost as stubborn as one of her predecessors. She stared Sabé down across the office, then flicked her gaze to the Holo when the name 'Amidala' came up in conversation.

"Shame Kenobi had to pass. He would have made excellent security."

Sabé blanched, staring at the Holo and then at the Queen. "What are you talking about?"

"You didn't know?" The Queen raised her eyebrows. "I thought you would have, given your history with him."

"Handmaiden talk," Sabé muttered through gritted teeth. At times like this, when Queens questioned her personal life, she wondered why she had taken a position in Theed's main security detail all those years ago, when Amidala finished her term. _This Queen will be the death of me._

"Ah. Turn up the volume, please."

"Of course, _my lady."_

"Mmm. Charming."

"I try."

"This is just in - the Coronet has broken through the atmosphere of Coruscant. It was set to land three hours ago, but according to Mandalorian authorities, the Duchess Kryze had fallen severely ill and needed the morning to recover."

"That sounds suspicious," Neeyutnee murmured, cocking her head. "Wonder why she would delay. That's not like her to put her needs first."

"She just lost one of her dearest friends." Sabé had been leaning against the desk, and shifted a bit while staring at the live footage of the Coronet. She realized how tightly she had been gripping her biceps, and loosened her hold gradually. "I can hardly blame her for becoming sick."

"_We are live at the landing dock - 300 meters away, of course, at the Order's request. Masters Yoda and Windu are standing beside Knights Skywalker and Secura."_

"_Any sighting of - oh, there's Padawan Tano escorting Senator Amidala from a taxi."_

Padmé and Ahsoka bowed to the Jedi when they strolled up to them. The cameras tried to zoom in on their conversations, but only managed to make their faces blurry. It panned away a moment later. _"Senator Amidala looks a little unsteady on her feet - I wonder if something is wrong."_

"_You know, Natalie - today marks the first day since General Skywalker and Padawan Tano have been spotted outside the Temple. Some claim his ship was seen landing at an apartment building, but no one has been able to confirm that rumor."_

"Oh I wonder where he could be," Sabé muttered, rolling her eyes. _Those idiots aren't very subtle._

"Hmm?"

"Nothing of importance, m'lady."

On the screen, the Coronet docked. A few moments later Duchess Satine exited the Coronet, flanked by two guards and a woman that must have been a handmaiden. For someone who had probably been grieving for a week, she looked well.

_Too well,_ Sabé noticed, studying the Duchess' impeccable features and braided hair. The Duchess lacked a headdress, and was smiling softly while she bowed to the Jedi masters.

Words were spoken, and she might have laughed, judging by the way her eyes crinkled.

_Or that could be wrinkles, _Sabé thought, watching Senator Amidala embrace the Duchess warmly, followed by Tano doing the same.

A flashing red dot appeared in the corner of the screen.

"_Oh, we're getting the signal to cut our feed and - what's Skywalker doing?"_

Sabé leaned forward, watching curiously while Skywalker stepped forward and grasped the Duchess' hand. No words were exchanged while they moved to embrace.

The screen stilled, and static ensued.

Groping for the remote, Sabé turned to Holo to mute before the reporters could speak again. "Do you want to reconvene after your next meeting, Queen Neeyutnee? I feel we might have clearer heads."

* * *

Ahsoka woke to sobbing and a whirlwind in the Force the morning of the funeral. She grimaced, rolling over and glancing at the clock.

_2:00am._

The days blurred together since...since

She pulled the covers over her head, sighing heavily. The Council had allowed her to leave duties and classes until after...after Obi-Wan's funeral.

Gentle murmuring sounded from the bedroom next door.

_Padmé._

It was strange, living in the apartment these past few days. The fact that Anakin and Senator Amidala were in some sort of relationship wasn't a shock, not really.

No, it was Anakin wandering around in a daze and tinkering randomly in a workshop he had in a spare room of the apartment. It was him cooking elaborate meals that no one really ate. It was the repeated comms to Tatooine, talking for hours to his brother when a connection could hold.

It was Padmé not hiding her disability, moving around in a wheelchair or using braces on different body parts, taking too many naps for a normal sentient being, throwing up her meals at times, taking so many pills it didn't seem possible they should all work.

It was the silence at times, the way she missed the buzz and chatter of the Temple, the laughter, and the predictable routine.

* * *

Mando'a words:

Nu kyr'adyc, shi taab'echaaj'la: Not gone, merely marching far away. (Phrase for the dead)

Mir'osik: Dung for brains

Gedet'ye: Please

Alitit ori'shya tal'din: Family is more than blood

* * *

_Author's note: hello there ;)_

_It's been a little while, but my mental health took a dive and I had to step back from fanfic for a little bit._

_But enjoy this chapter. I have one coming that deals with Mace and Anakin discussing, ah, things - :D_

_For those of you I shared bits with, you know what's coming...a little. Mwahaha._

_Love you darlings. _

_ii Digestive Reader ii_


	18. The Funeral

Chapter Eighteen: The Funeral

* * *

**Warning**: Rape and Murder Mention towards the end of chapter

* * *

The airspace around the Temple allowed no civilian aircraft of any kind to be within 300 meters unless previously authorized.

However, that didn't stop reporters from the Holonet stations to hover just outside the limits, desperately trying to catch a glimpse of those attending the funeral of Obi-Wan Kenobi.

Satine thought it was disgusting.

Funeral first. Figure out how the fuck to fake her grief for the next few weeks with cameras shoved in her face, waiting for her to break.

There were cameras floating around the city-planet, trying to catch a glimpse of her covered shuttle. For months the galaxy had been intrigued by their relationship, trying to pry an answer out of either of them.

Obi-Wan had always been the more diplomatic of the pair, effectively dodging the questions and steering the conversation elsewhere. He always did it with a kind smile and a wink, like he was keeping a secret.

_Amazing. He could fool the galaxy and make them believe he was sauve, the perfect Jedi._

The Holonet portrayed a man who laughed beside Anakin and trained Ahsoka, or escorted politicians to galas and made the Ice Queen of Mandalore crack a smile, or shook hands with enemy delegates and fought beside his fellow Jedi on war-torn worlds.

The galaxy knew him as the Negotiator, one half of the dynamic duo, a third of the Golden trio. But she…

Satine held his heart, had spent countless nights by his side, knew secrets he dared not reveal to his brother-in-arms. She knew that he struggled to maintain sober, suffered from horrible night terrors, and wished for the war to end by any means necessary. She knew his political ideals, how he couldn't stand the Chancellor, how he inwardly groaned every time he had to escort a politician.

Her shuttle docked on the landing platform harshly.

Blood roared in her ears.

"Stay around the shuttle," Satine murmured to her guards when the ramp was lowered. "I need no protection in the Jedi Temple.

"Yes, Your Grace."

The sun blinded her when she stepped down, glancing to her right. Padmé was stepping down the ramp of her own shuttle, grimacing and looking paler than usual.

She looked straight ahead, to where Master Yoda was waiting alone for them.

_This is really happening._

She thought she might be sick.

_Fuck this green troll._

Padmé forced a smile at her while they walked.

"Master Yoda," Padmé murmured, bowing her head when they came before him. "I would say good evening but under the circumstances I do not think that would be ideal."

Yoda smiled gently, though his gaze was on Satine. "Ideal, circumstances are not. But manageable, I believe they are. Everything, not always what it seems to be. Agree, would you not, Your Grace?"

Satine raised her eyebrows, not bothering to cloak her annoyance and disgust like Obi-Wan had tried to teach her to do. "Truer words have never been spoken, Master."

Yoda inclined his head, folding his hands over his cane. "Wise you are, Duchess. Proud, Master Kenobi would be. Very proud."

* * *

Satine wanted to draw up the hood of her cloak and hide while she walked the halls of the Temple. She had been in the Temple once, when she had been asked by the High Council to discuss Death Watch.

Few had noticed her that day, without her finery and elaborate headdress.

Everyone in damn Temple knew who she was. Duchess Satine Kar Lene Kryze of Mandalore. Heir to the Kryze Clan. Chairman of the Delegation of Neutral Systems. Patron of the arts. Ambassador of Outer Rim Education Services. Idealist. Pacifist.

The Negotiator's lover. Obi-Wan Kenobi's partner. The woman he would drop everything for. Sweetheart, beautiful, my love, darling, honey.

My dear.

Despite the centuries of distrust between Jedi and Mandalorians, she could feel their stares, the looks of pity in everyone eyes.

She tried to remain stoic, trying to meld the mask of a politician and a grieving lover.

It was impossible.

She acknowledged the masters and Knight's with nods upon following Yoda into the burial chamber, hearing nothing but murmurs of apologies and condelonsences while she stepped through the crowd of a few hundred and made her way to the "body" of her beloved.

She wondered who's body it really was.

Some terminated clone?

The High Council was standing around the body, and a few choice others.

She barely noticed the Chancellor standing beside Mace Windu.

A "body" of Obi-Wan hadn't been covered yet. It was deathly quiet while she walked towards it, putting a hand up to Padmé, who attempted to follow her.

This she needed to do alone.

"Obi-Wan's" face was white, preserved by chemicals and creams and Force knew what else. His red hair and beard was perfectly coiffed, a far cry from the mangled mess he often had upon waking up. She knew he'd be proud of how crisp his robes were, how not even a speck of dirt was on his boots.

A hand grasped hers, and she glanced up at Anakin, who was standing at the front of the body.

Anakin - like every Jedi during mourning - had the hood of his cloak drawn up. His blue eyes were barely visible.

She knew that Obi-Wan loved Anakin - perhaps even more than he loved her - and would do anything for the young man.

_How come he told me and not Anakin?_

She nodded to him, squeezing his hand before stepping back, into the crowd of mourners - did Jedi mourn?

Padmé put a hand on her shoulder briefly before letting it drop.

Yoda spoke a eulogy and ancient Jedi prayer in a language only used for deaths.

Anakin whispered something to low for anyone to hear while drawing up the sheet over Obi-Wan, but it sounded like to her, "Tell Qui-Gon he was right. You were old enough for the trials."

Mace gave to signal for the body to be lowered into the grave.

Satine put a hand to her mouth, trying not to let her sobs echo.

* * *

Had she been expecting a reception? Maybe. Obi-Wan was well-loved by the Jedi, and it would have been a shame not to honor him.

Honoring Obi-Wan, however, involved the Jedi opening several bottles of wine and grog in the cafeteria and telling stories of Obi-Wan while trying not to get to terribly drunk in the presence of their peers.

It would have been amusing, had she not been so overwhelmed. She stood around making small talk about the recent - though failed - Republic/Separatist peace negotiations that had occurred on Mandalore, gripping a wine glass but not drinking from it.

Force sensitive she was not, she could feel the power in the room, the buzzing of a few hundred people muttering and talking about Obi-Wan.

Senator Organa left to speak to the Chancellor, leaving her alone. _Again. Alone in a room full of people. How is that possible?_

An elbow nudged her arm. Satine glanced to her left, surprised when Anakin Skywalker held up two bottles of water.

"I noticed you weren't drinking," he explained with a shrug.

"Vor'e," she murmured, setting her undrunk glass on a server droid's tray and grasping the water bottle. "I'm surprised the apprentice of Obi-Wan Kenobi does not indulge in alcohol."

"Oh, he tried. I even got dragged to a wine-tasting festival to 'educate me on the finer arts of the galaxy.'"

Satine snorted, cracking open the bottle of water and taking a sip. Her stomach wanted to revolt against the water, though she forced it down and smiled a little. "Odd. I remember a certain young man - your age, actually - outdrinking Master Qui-Gon at a bar and not even being the slightest bit drunk."

"Not even a little?" Anakin muttered, watching his padawan sip at wine and speak to Masters Luminara and Tii. He frowned before turning his gaze back to Satine. "That's disappointing."

"Well, he did sing the Ancient texts from memory - and fell asleep at the bar table. Qui-Gon had to carry him back to our hotel slung over his shoulder."

Anakin managed a huff of laughter, shaking his head. "I would have paid to see that."

"Paid to see what, Anakin my boy?"

Satine stiffened, swallowing the bile in her throat and pasting on a smile while she turned. "Chancellor Palpatine. I'm pleased you could make it."

"Well under the circumstances I'm hardly certain you two can be pleased about anything. You were closest to Master Kenobi, after all." Chancellor Palpatine gave a small smile, and grasped her free hand. She had a hard time not flinching at the touch, and drew away quickly. "I'm so sorry for your loss, Your Grace."

"Thank you, Your Excellency," Anakin whispered.

"Yes, well...that's the thing with loss." Satine swallowed the urge to put a protective hand over her stomach. it may have been just her - or the babe's midi-chlorian levels - but something felt queerer than usual about the Chancellor. "We recover."

"Do we?" Palpatine murmured, raising his bushy eyebrows.

Ignoring the prickle of unease that went down her spine, she narrowed her eyes at the Chancellor. "Before I leave Coruscant, sir - would you mind speaking to me about the recent peace negotiations between your Republic and the Separatists that were held on Mandalore? They occurred over a month ago but we have yet to discuss the details in person. It would mean a good deal to my court should I do something productive on my stay here."

"Grieving for a friend is not productive?" Anakin muttered, drinking the water.

"Not in politics, Anakin," Satine snapped while staring at the Chancellor.

The Chancellor nodded, his attention already elsewhere. "Of course, my dear. Any time. Ambassador Gallia, might I have a word?"

* * *

"Duchess!"

Satine turned around, frowning when she saw Commander Cody sprinting towards them on the Temple landing bay. She waved her guards back, stepping forward and pulling her cloak tight around her. "Commander?"

Cody nodded to her guards before looking at her. "I need to take you to the Healing Halls."

"What? Why? Only Jedi are allowed - "

He put a hand on her wrist, his voice low. "Obi-Wan is there. He hasn't started his mission yet."

Satine jerked her head back, about to take a rapid step away before controlling herself. She frowned, ignoring the hope flaring in her chest and studied the Commandar. "You're serious."

"Why would I lie?" Cody looked at her guards. "Leave them here - please, Duchess."

She hesitated for a moment before nodding. "I have business with the Commandar," she called over her shoulder. "Stay here."

"Yes m'lady."

Cody offered the crook of his arm.

Satine took it, bile crawling in in her throat while they walked. She wanted to know how many times her lover had held this man's arm, walked by this man, drunk, laughed, fought beside, slept with, shared secrets with.

How did Obi-Wan trust this man more than her?

She kept her gaze straight ahead, not looking at the Jedi staring at her confusion or the clones escorts that were passing them.

There were plants lining the walls when they made enough turns and twists. The perfume of the flowers and vines filled the air. It barely masked the smell of antiseptic in the air.

It made her sick.

It made her heart pound.

Cody patted her hand, his own face set in a grim line. They halted in waiting area outside the grand doors covered in vines, nodding to the guard who ducked inside at the Commander's nod.

"I knew Jango Fett you know."

"Oh?" Cody looked at her, brow scrunching together.

"He was of noble birth - all the Fett's were. Traditional. They hated my father, my family - tried to have him assassinated many times. Wanted to have one of their own as Mandalo'r again, like in the old days." Satine looked at him, this man that shared Jango's face. "I was in my bedchamber when Jango and his men came into the palace, set it ablaze. Obi-Wan wanted me out - I was heir now, after all. My oldest brother had been beheaded earlier in the month. We hid in servants garb, stood in the crowd outside the palace while my family was lined up."

The guard came back, beckoning them.

Satine put a hand on his arm, meeting his gaze. "Jango stabbed my mother through the ribs - she was pregnant with her eighth child. They made my siblings watch, right down to my youngest brother whom was just a toddler. My father's scream was cut off when someone cut his head with the Dark Saber. My sisters were raped by Fett men, right down to my youngest sister - she was seven. In front of everyone. My brothers were beaten so badly that one of them was in a coma for a year. My bastard brother Leonardo was tortured so badly he _still _doesn't speak of it."

She was shaking, trying to keep her voice steady. "I still wake to the taste of soot in my mouth, watching my home burn. To my siblings screams. And I have to live with the knowledge that everyday, the father of my child fucked _you_, trusts _you,_ when he saw what happened to my family."

"My lady...I am not Jango Fett."

She scoffed, stepping back from him. "You're right - you're _so _much worse."

Cody sighed behind her, then fell back into step when they passed the threshold to the Healing Halls. He led the way, waving away the padawan.

Satine followed, putting a hand to her stomach protectively when she followed to down a dark stairwell and towards a door marked with a question mark. She wasn't sure if she could feel a swell - she was bloated as hell, that was for sure.

Scared.

"You...might want to brace yourself, Madame."

She nodded, watching the Commander punch in the security codes. The bile rode a little further up her throat at the wave of antiseptic that poured out when the door whooshed open.

Cody stepped back, giving a sweeping gesture.

"Obi-Wan?" Satine asked cautiously while stepping in. She wove around a pair of screens - and held a hand to her mouth upon seeing the man who had supposedly killed her lover.

The bounty hunter - gray skinned, tattooed, heavy set in all the wrong ways, bald and non bearded - glanced between her and Cody, then gave a heavy sigh. He nodded, taking a step forward and grimacing when she flinched. "In the flesh my dear."

"I just watched your funeral."

"I...I know."

"I watched your funeral." Satine stalked forward, stabbing a finger into his chest - he was still wearing his Jedi robes, thank gods - and crying. "I haven't stopped crying even though I knew you are alive."

Cody stepped back, giving them privacy.

Obi-Wan grimaced, glancing away. He covered her hand with his, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. His lips was too smooth - she missed the beard.

Satine didn't struggle when he folded her into his arms, wrong those arms felt. The smell was the same, and the love behind the actions. She sniffed, leaning her head against his chest.

"I'm sorry." Obi-Wan rubbed her back, taking a step backwards and sitting on the bed. His voice sounded odd, a mix of his famous Coruscanti accent and a rougher, choppier accent that she didn't recognize.

Satine curled into his lap, struggling not to dissolve into harsher sobs. Her fingers twisted into his tunics. "I thought I'd have to give birth alone."

Obi-Wan froze, then titled her chin upwards. There was a hesitant smile on his face - no, more of shock and disbelief. "You're... keeping it?" He brushed at her tears. "Do you want this? To keep it?"

"I... Mandalore needs an heir."

"Satine…you have Korkie."

"I...I…" Satine shrugged, leaning heavily against him and closing her eyes. She thought of her mother, bearing children most of her life because that's what was _expected. _"You want to be a father."

"Yeah but…" Obi-Wan stroked her back, then set his chin on her hair. "Not at the expense of your happiness."

Satine tried to crack a smile, though it failed. She focused on feeling him gently massage her neck, so overwhelmed with emotion she felt numb.

She knew Obi-Wan was excited, though trying to dampen it for her sake. The gynecologist appointment had probably been the most difficult she'd ever had. _Mandalorians _didn't conceive before marriage. It didn't happen. Few even had sex before marriage.

Th nurses had whispered, the gynecologist - lovely woman though she was - had stared at her in shock before recovering herself.

She had wanted Obi-Wan by her side so much that day, urging her to calm down, sharing stupid puns, kissing her hands, distracting her while they did the ultrasound.

All she had was this...and it wasn't enough.

"We'll have to be married," Satine muttered. "Everyone will know you're the father, but they _might _tolerate it if we marry before the pregnancy is visible."

"Say it's preterm when it's born."

"Mmm hmm - Mandalorians don't release photos until six months anyways."

Obi-Wan tilted her chin upwards again, this time not hiding his smile. The face was wrong, but the smile was familiar. "There are worse reasons to marry."

She managed to laugh, accepting his bruising kiss. She cupped his jaw, well aware that his hand slid to her stomach and stroked it gently.

"You can barely feel anything," she mumbled against his lips, "mostly bloating."

A rough chuckle escaped him, and he kissed her again.

"Do you know if it's a boy or girl?"

"Not yet... Mandalorians don't really like to know until birth."

Somewhere to their left, someone cleared their throat.

Satine shrunk into him upon spotting the newcomer, unable to help it.

"Mace." Obi-Wan tightened his arm around her, keeping his hand where it was on her stomach. "Time to be shipped out?"

Master Windu inclined his head, his face impassive whole he studied them. He eventually sighed, stepping forward and keeping his voice low. "I apologise Duchess - I didn't consider how difficult this would be on everyone."

Satine raised her eyebrows, glancing at her ashamed lover to the Master of the Order. "Things happen."

"They do," he agreed, gaze dropping to her stomach. "I wouldn't have sent Obi-Wan on this mission if I had known you were with child, Your Grace."

"What?" Obi-Wan murmured, his borrowed face paling.

"Your commitment to the Jedi is admirable - but even sometimes our personal commitments should be valued more." Mace nodded his head. "I'll escort you out Your Grace - I'm sure Obi-Wan has told you that no one must know about this."

Satine glanced at the floor, taking a shaky breath before gesturing to her lover. Puzzled, he loosened his hold and watched her stand. She brushed out her skirts, aware of the men staring at her.

"You are only being kind to me, Master Windu, because I carry a child in me. Your best general's child, your favorite master - a bastard child that will unite our people, Mandalore and the Jedi Order. It may not pleasant, but - "

"You're right, my lady." Master Windu gave a small smile. "This war has been so _much _easier because Mandalore's legs are open and willing."

Satine flinched at her own words thrown back at her.

"Mace," Obi-Wan murmured. He rose, fingers twitching at his side, itching for the lightsaber he didn't have.

Satine raised her eyebrows, shoving down the need to burst into tears. Being an actor and a singer had helped in this game of politics. "The babe isn't yet born."

"This mission isn't finished - you could very well have to raise a Jedi bastard by yourself in a system that hates you and every Jedi who lives. Besides," Mace's smile was grim. "About half pregnancies end in miscarriage on Mand - "

"MACE!" Obi-Wan shouted, taking a step forward and putting himself between them. His eyes and face and body may have been different, but his will and strength were the same.

His anger too, an anger that made the Dark Side quiver.

Satine covered her stomach, feeling Obi-Wan's hand over her own. She thought of what the nurses and gynecologist, how they murmured and worried about something they wouldn't tell her about.

Mace stared at them levely, then gave a sad smile. "Duchess - I believe you should take your leave. Long journey ahead - you'll need all your rest, pretending to be a -"

"Mace," Obi-Wan growled. _"Enough."_

The room seemed to tremble.

* * *

_Author's note: don't worry my friends - the next chapter will be a mix of Anakin and Obi-Wan ;)_

_I really wanted a chapter dedicated to just Satine_

_Well - enjoy and let me know what you think. How annoying was Mace? What did you think of Satine's reveal about the Fett's? _

_ii Digestive Reader ii_


	19. Take a Breath

Chapter Nineteen: Take a Breath

* * *

Anakin rolled over, staring at the wall. The warmth of the flannel sheets was little comfort. He could hear the servants outside, moving around and cleaning and laughing. It was late in the morning by his standards.

Even Padmé was awake, taking a shower.

It took so much energy to move, to think, to breathe. His lungs hurt, his body hurt, everything hurt. The funeral had only been two days ago, and he couldn't remember the last time he ate. Maybe the reception?

He closed his eyes, sighing heavily. There was still three days of his week leave left.

The sounds of Coruscant were comforting, lulling even - he must have drifted off, because he woke to the bed dipping and a hand on his shoulder.

"You gonna be okay?" Padmé murmured, moving a hand to stroke his hair. She was still in a towel, wet hair bound in a loose braid down her back.

"I...just can't believe he's gone. Out...out of all the things that he's survived - a _gunshot?_ How can a gunshot kill him when a few weeks ago he broke half the bones in his body and - and - " Anakin closed his eyes, feeling trying to escape. "If there's any sort of deity why would they take away someone before their time?"

Padmé frowned, settling her hand in her lap. She glanced out the window, tapping her fingers together before looking back at him. Without a word she leaned over and pressed a kiss to his brow. "Can you at least take a shower before Satine comes for dinner tonight? She's leaving tomorrow morning."

The thought of Satine nearly made him flinch.

* * *

Ahsoka did her best not to blush in embarrassment when her comlink went off in the middle Master Tiin's lecture. She gave a sheepish grin, dipping her head in apology while she rose from the bench.

_You encourage me to not skip class, but you call me out of class half the time, _Ahsoka thought irritably, stepping into the silent hallway and pressing the answer button of her wrist-comm. "Master, I'm - "

Anakin's voice - low and gravely from days of misuse - crackled over the speaker. _"Astronomy can wait, Ahsoka. Come to the hangar. Now."_

"What?" Ahsoka grimaced, realizing that her materials were still in the classroom. She would have to get them tomorrow. "What's going on?"

_"I will explain when you get here."_

"Master!" Ahsoka snapped, spotting the nearest lift and jogging to it. She punched the button that would bring her to the lower levels of the Temple, close to the hangar. "Don't keep this from me. _Please."_

She stepped into the lift.

Anakin cut the transmission.

"Unbelievable," she muttered, looking at the lights of the lift.

It had been seven horrible, long days since Master Kenobi's funeral. She had been left alone by Anakin - though she hardly wanted to be around him. The man was a whirlwind of grief and anger, barely able to function from day to day. He spent all his time the past few days focusing on the whereabouts of Rako Hardeen, barely pausing to eat or shower. There was little chance he had even slept, much less spoken more than a hundred words.

But Anakin was not the only one who was taking Obi-Wan's death hard. The entire Temple was quiet, everyone speaking in hushed, stunned whispers - especially around her.

It was like they feared her.

Ahsoka shook her head, sinking into her thoughts while she walked to the hangar. This wasn't right. She shouldn't be walking alone.

_Master Kenobi should be here, or Anakin. Or both of them should be here, yelling at each other and pretending to be frustrated._

"Master where are you?" Ahsoka yelled when she entered the rather quiet hangar. Quiet, however, meant the faint whir of machines and the click insomniac individuals and their tools. She didn't get a response, and focused on his Force Signature.

"Oh, there he is," she muttered, walking towards the landing pad she could sense him standing on. "Sexual frustration mixed with a dash of self-loathing and plenty of sarcasm. This shall be - I'm talking to myself - dear Force, I'm turning into Master Kenobi."

"Where have you been?" Anakin demanded when she strolled up to him, turning from watching the skyline. Two transports were on the landing dock beside him.

"I was in class, thank you very much."

A growl escaped Anakin. "Whatever. Come on, Padawan. You take the yellow one."

"What are we doing?"

"Master Yoda and Master Windu found Hardeen's whereabouts." Anakin turned to climb into the transport. "We're gonna find his sleemo ass and bring him to justice."

"Uh huh - I thought Hardeen was a ruthless killer that shouldn't be engaged without authorization?"

Anakin gave her an exasperated look from the ramp of his transport. "Plans change, Snips. We were given authorization - unless _you _want to stay here and learn about Coruscant's star system."

Ahsoka didn't particularly want to leave the Temple.

But the look in his eyes - crazed, scared, angry - reminded her all too much of Mortis.

She thought of the four days spent at Senator Amidala's apartment, how Anakin was so distraught he didn't even make an effort to hide his relationship with the Senator - whatever it was.

She had sat there, listening to Anakin gasp awake, and Padmé trying to console him while he sobbed for Obi-Wan.

"_Take care of him," _Padmé had pleaded over breakfast the day of the funeral, before Anakin woke up. _"You might be able to reach him."_

"I'll come."

_Just don't do anything stupid, Anakin - I have a bad feeling about this._

* * *

The ride through the levels of Coruscant was silent. Ahsoka kept the communications open, hoping for Anakin to make a joke and pretend that everything was fine - even if it was just for a moment.

She got nothing, not even a whir from R2 over her scanners.

Twenty minutes into the ride, and she spoke.

"I still don't understand. Did Master Yoda say how they found the sniper?"

Anakin's voice was low, barely audible over the speakers. "Who cares? All that matters is they did."

She could imagine him in the transport. Jaw clenched so tight he could barely speak, a white-knuckled grip on the controls, a scowl etched onto his face, his shoulders tensed harder than a rock.

"We're coming up on the bar," Anakin muttered. "Same place you got your lightsaber stolen."

"Yay."

They managed to land on the small, crowded platform. Ahsoka cut the engines, watching her master hop out of his transport and shove through the curious onlookers. Something wasn't sitting right in the Force - and the feeling only got worse while she jumped out of her transport and followed.

"Shouldn't we have our cloaks? You know, to be semi-conspicuous?"

Anakin ignored her, stepping through the doors of the bar. The place was dim, lit by green lights and burning death sticks. The smell of alcohol, sweat, and vomit made her head pound - but the blaring music probably didn't help either. The chatter of a hundred beings slowed to a whisper while they walked in, and stilled altogether when her master ignited his lightsaber.

"Where. Is. Rako. Hardeen?"

The bartender, a snake-like-creature, rasped his answer. "Back room."

In the dim light, Anakin's eyes seemed to glitter amber. He smiled a little, moving through the bar towards the back room. People cleared a path for them, gawking at the sight of the lightsaber.

_Have any of these people even seen the surface? _Ahsoka wondered, glancing at two prostitutes staring at her from a table. _Have they even met a decent person?_

"Can you disengage your lightsaber?" Ahsoka murmured before they stepped into the back room. She could certainly sense a person inside the room - Hardeen...right? She folded her arms over her chest, not liking the feeling she was experiencing. "Please?"

Anakin didn't say anything, though he did disengage the 'saber and clip it back to his belt. The back room was dark besides some city lights shining through the dusty blinds.

Rako Hardeen was curled up on the counter, his back to them.

"Is he dead?"

"He's about to be," Anakin growled, stalking over to Hardeen and yanking on his shoulder.

Hardeen snorted, rolling his head to glance at Anakin. His words slurred together. "A Jedi? I already killed a Jedi today...let me sleep."

"He's not dead - he's drunk."

_I don't think so, Master, _Ahsoka thought - but she kept that to herself.

"Get up, you filth!" Anakin grabbed Hardeen and slammed him against the wall. "If it was up to me _I would kill you right here!_ But lucky for you, the man you murdered would rather see you rot in jail."

Ahsoka stared at the sniper, her brow creasing together. She raised her eyebrows when he glanced at her, eyes widening ever so slightly.

_His eyes…_

Anakin clamped restraints onto Hardeen's wrists and shoved him out door. "Now, let's go, you coward, before I change my mind."

Someone spit on Hardeen while they walked out of the bar. "Jedi killer."

"I'll take him in my transport," she muttered.

"No."

"You will kill Hardeen. He is coming in my transport to the jail."

Anakin glared at her, but it was Hardeen that spoke.

"Killing a female isn't in my intentions, Jetti."

"What are your _other _intentions, scum? Anakin snarled.

"I'm a sniper, not a rapist."

Ahsoka looked at her master, who clenched his teeth and tightened his grip on Hardeen's arm.

"You fly my transport, Snips. I will stay in the back watching the scum. I'll contact Rex and have him pick up your transport."

* * *

_Author's note: yes, I'm aware of it's a short chapter - but next chapter (or two, three) is 90% OBI-WAN with some Anakin for angst. Hold onto to your butts. (Drop a comment if you get the reference)_

_I'd like to give a massive shout out to the user: lisca _

_Your comments made me so, so happy during a tough few weeks. So thank you anon :)_

_ii Digestive Reader ii_


	20. Deception

Chapter Twenty: Deception

* * *

Obi-Wan leaned against the transport after his padawan roughly shoved him down. He rolled his eyes, trying to remain in character.

"Master," Ahsoka chided, fiddling with the controls.

Anakin dropped on the bench across from him, glaring. "Just drive Ahsoka."

"You got it."

Obi-Wan did his best not to smile when the transport jostled and huffed before taking off. His smile, unfortunately, was noticed by Anakin.

"What's so funny scum?"

"Hmm - oh. Your apprentice. She's stubborn."

"Keep your comments to about her to yourself."

Obi-Wan raised his non-existent eyebrows, studying the bags under his former padawan's eyes. _Oh, why did I keep this from you Anakin?_ Twisting his wrists in the binders behind his back, he stretched out his legs. "It was a compliment - my wife is like that. I hope our daughter is too."

Anakin stiffened, though he didn't say anything. He stood, looking out the window. "West entrance Snips."

Ahsoka gave a thumbs up, piloting through the lanes and stopping at the first of many checkpoints before the prison allowed them to dock.

Ahsoka hadn't been great at landing last he knew - she was a little better, only clunking the transport a little.

Anakin stalked back to him - and blinked when Obi-Wan stood with a bored expression. He stepped close, practically spitting. "You know," he murmured, "you murdered a man who had a girlfriend and an unborn child - think about that while you rot."

Obi-Wan didn't say anything, letting himself shoved out of the transport and down the ramp. He stared at the large complex before him, trying to keep his fear down.

_God, why didn't I back it of this mission?_

Two clones met them halfway on the platform.

Anakin shoved him forward. "You should be expecting this scum."

One of the clone guards caught Obi-Wan, keeping a firm grip on Obi-Wan's wrist. It was gentler than Anakin's. "Yes, sir."

They turned around, heading towards the prison.

"Let me know if he's any trouble. I'd be happy to straighten him out," Anakin called.

Obi-Wan wanted to look back. He wanted to turn back time, to when he had the choice to decline the mission, to when Satine realized she was pregnant, to when they came back from Mortis and all he could do was call her every chance he had because he was so shaken up, when Ahsoka was slightly younger and he could have instilled some better valued instead of letting a traumatized teenager raise a kid, when -

"Pick up the pace Hardeen."

Obi-Wan shook his head, offering a smile at the guard. The clone didn't react, standing still at the first checkpoint.

A red beam passed over their bodies.

An automated voice came from a speaker. "CC-A375 - cleared for next checkpoint. Cc-B376 cleared for next checkpoint. Rako Hardeen - dangerous items detected. Please strip."

"Strip?" Obi-Wan asked in bewilderment.

The guard inside the checkpoint chuckled, chucking Obi-Wan an orange package. Force shields came around him when the guards stepped away. "Strip yourself of your clothes and put those on - and relax, we can't see you. It's thermal radiation."

Obi-Wan sighed, nodding slowly.

* * *

It wasn't quite breakfast time - and so they shoved him into a cell and let the force field sizzle upwards. Obi-Wan realized he was alone - there was only one bunk - and lay down on it. He grimaced at how firm the mattress was, rolling over in a pathetic attempt to get comfortable.

Something jabbed in his thigh pocket. He dug it out, well aware that the prison allowed one singular personal item - as long as it was scanned and viewed. The humiliation of watching the guards chuckle and toss it back to him was fresh in his mind, though he attempted to ignore it and switched it on.

The photoreader hummed a moment before it turned on. He swallowed, trying to smile upon seeing the picture of Satine. It was a few seconds long, of her singing and then laughing when she realized he was taking a picture, hiding her face.

Thank gods the guards hadn't figured out whom she was. _That _would have been difficult to explain.

He traced her features with his eyes, smiling for the first time in...two? Three days? A week?

He didn't know.

Carefully, Obi-Wan clicked to the next picture.

Tears threatened to spill over. He wiped his eyes, staring at the sonogram in awe. It hadn't seemed real, all of their talk and worrying and tears about the pregnancy...but...but this was proof it was real, imminent.

_Oh my goodness…_

Satine had sent it to him last minute, while he was leaving for the bar.

He watched the little image move, nubs of hand and arms wiggling for a few seconds before the image repeated. Satine hadn't told him the gender - that she has refused to know.

_But if that vision is right..._

He spent a few minutes clicking between the images, regretting that he had been stupid enough to leave Satine scared and Anakin devasted.

When his eyes began to burn from lack of sleep he shut the photo recorder off and closed his eyes, hoping for a few hours of sleep.

* * *

"That's him! Kenobi's killer!"

"Rako Hardeen."

"He doesn't look so tough."

"He killed a Jedi."

Obi-Wan ignored everyone muttering in awe, sitting down at an empty table. He couldn't focus on the sea of orange jumpsuits - if he actually cared to study everyone, he'd find he probably put half of them in here himself.

Picking up his fork, he went to eat - and promptly spit whatever it was out. Even his cooking was better than this.

_Gods, why do we treat our prisoners so horribly? Half of them are probably in here for petty crimes._

A Karkarodon stalked up to him while he attempted to eat, slamming his webbed hands down. "That's him? That's the Jedi killer? He doesn't look so tough."

Obi-Wan ignored him.

The Karkarodon took his water and began to drink it. He growled when Obi-Wan didn't respond, shoving him. "You don't look so tough to me."

Obi-Wan knew he was supposed to ignore this confrontation, diffuse it, not get into trouble so he could get into league with Moralo Eval and find out more about the plot to kill the Chancellor during the Nubian Festival of Light.

But...he was supposed to play the villian.

"This food tastes terrible." Without warning, he stabbed his fork into the Karkarodon's hand, listening to it howl. Grabbing him by the gills, he pulled the Karkarodon closer and muttered: "Maybe you'd taste better."

People gasped.

Obi-Wan felt a smile curl on his lips.

The silence was broken by a Clone yelling from the bannister: "Hey, what's going on down there?"

Obi-Wan let the Karkarodon go. "Sorry! Just playing with my food."

The Karkarodon backed away, holding his injured hand. "You're crazy!"

He watched the Karkarodon run back to his table, then picked up his tea. It was weak, but it'd have to do.

Before he had the chance to stand and leave the cafeteria in search of Moralo Eval, the man in question slid onto the bench across from him. "Rako Hardeen. Your reputation precedes you. I'm curious, when you killed that Jedi, was it for money or revenge?"

Obi-Wan remembered the intel they had on this man. That he was working directly with Count Dooku on their plot to kill the Chancellor. That Eval had killed his own mother because he was bored as a kid

Obi-Wan lowered his bowl of tea for a moment. "I don't know. Guess I was bored."

Eval laughed, nudging the sole condiment on the table towards him "Try the sauce. It makes that slop almost tolerable." He stood, the florescent light bouncing off of his horrible scales. "I'll be seeing you, Mr. Hardeen."

* * *

It must have been towards evening when the clones began to transfer everyone back to their cells. Obi-Wan went with only some mild swearing - he had to keep up an image afterall.

The cells were in a circular manner, with a guard station in the center. The lights inside the thousands of cells was a noxious orange color.

He knew where his cell was...and he knew he was being transferred to a different one.

The lift - more like a pod found in the Senate - docked at a cell. The force field fell long enough for him to step through, then sizzled back.

Moralo Eval was sitting on a bunk, grinning. "Here you go, Hardeen. Home, sweet home."

Obi-Wan managed a smile, glancing over to the other bunk that was occupied. He had a bad feeling about this. "What a coincidence.

"No coincidence. I am Moralo Eval, and I have great influence here."

He glanced at the guards floating away, then walked up to Eval. "What do you want from me?"

Eval chuckled. "A man like you...there's bigger game than Jedi, if you've got the guts."

Obi-Wan sat on the bunk, not believing that it was _this _easy to gain intel. "I'm listening."

"It's a brilliant plan if I do say so. And it involves the Chancellor."

A nasally voice came from the high bunk. "If I'm breaking out this goon along with us, it'll cost you. Double my rate."

Obi-Wan tried not to flinch as the person rolled over and revealed themselves.

Eval chortled. "Rako Hardeen...meet Cad Bane."

Obi-Wan was quick to recover. "Who you calling a goon?"

"Any imbecile can kill a Jedi with a lousy sniper blast. You want my respect?" Bane jumped from his bunk, stalking over to Obi-Wan. "You do it face-to-face."

He stood, getting in Bane's face. "Who said I want your respect?"

"Make that triple my rate."

Eval stepped between them, pushing them away from each other. "Oh, what a shame.

Seems this cell isn't big enough for the three of us. Guard!" He walked Obi-Wan towards the entrance of the cell. "It's been a pleasure chatting with you, Hardeen. But you will forget everything you heard in here, or Moralo Eval will have you slaughtered."

Obi-Wan gave a nod, letting the force field down and stepping into the guards pod.

"Need to go anywhere Hardeen?" One of the clones sneered.

"Just...take me back to my cell. Please."

* * *

Obi-Wan went to the gym one late night. According to the Council, there would a transmitter in there for him to communicate with the Council about his intel.

Guess Quinlan had broken in, placed the transmitter there, and broken out.

It had been three days since he had been in the prison.

He desperately wanted to know how Anakin was doing, to brew him a pot of caf and listen to the young man excitedly talk about the newest musical that was playing.

He desperately wanted to hold Satine, to make her laugh and forget what they were facing.

Obi-Wan went to the free weights, clearing his throat at the two sentients that were there.

"We were just leaving," one of them muttered.

He watched them leave in a scurry, then sat on the bench. Doing a few stretches, he watched the activity of the gym before putting his hand under the bench and -

A smile came over his face when he found the transmitter. He put the earpiece in, holding the recorder close, praying that Mace or Yoda would be in a briefing too.

"This is Ben. I found the transmitter, but I shall have to make this short. We have a problem. I made contact with Eval.

He nearly divulged his kidnap plot, but Cad Bane stopped him."

Mace's voice crackled in the earpiece. _"Cad Bane? We had no intel they were in league together."_

"It appears Eval's hired Bane to break him out of prison, and the way they were talking, it's imminent."

Yoda's voice was softer, but still there. _"Foolish we were, to believe Bane's capture was without purpose."_

"Yes." He tried to remember when Cad Bane was captured but could not. "Yes, but we can make this work for us. If they do try to escape, I won't let them out of my sight. No doubt he shall lead us to some answers about the plot and possibly to his superiors."

Mace gave a huff of approval. _"Good idea, Obi-Wan. Just don't blow your cover. It could take a while to extract you from prison."_

Obi-Wan chuckled. "Not to worry. I'm starting to enjoy playing the villain." He spotted a guard coming close. "Gotta go!"

"Who were you talking to Hardeen?"

"Talking too?" Obi-Wan waved his hand in an action most would consider nonchalant, though any trained eye would know it was a mind trick. "I was not talking to anyone - have a good day."

"Err - right. Have a good day Hardeen."

Obi-Wan smirked a little too himself while the clone wandered away. Sometimes...well, sometimes it _was _fun to break the rules.

* * *

A few days went by. Obi-Wan gradually began to understand the rythm of the prison...but that mean he didn't like it. He stayed to himself mostly, only causing enough trouble to stay on Moralo's radar and keep up Hardeen's reputation.

He wasn't a _total _jerk - Hardeen would have to be here at some point. The man should have a reputation that proceeded him.

There was a feeling one night, after he had gotten food and was walking towards a table - that things were gonna change.

"Hey, Hardeen! You owe me something."

Obi turned around, wondering why a young clone was stalking up to - oh. _Oh. _It was Boba Fett. "Oh, do I?"

"You don't even remember me?" Boba barely reached his chest. "That's very insulting."

"Look, kid, I don't want any trouble."

Boba slammed his tray to the floor. The noise echoed throughout the cafeteria. "You stole a bounty from me, and I want an apology!"

"Kill him, Hardeen, like the Jedi!"

"What's wrong, Hardeen?"

"Lose your spine?"

Obi-Wan sighed, imagining that technically this was his men's brother. "You don't want to do this"

"Kill him!"

"Oh, yes, I do."

A kid shouldn't have been able to tackle him. He knew, for lack of a better term, that he was a solid brick of muscle. But Boba _was _a clone, though not genetically enhanced but still Mandalorian.

Obi-Wan found himself slammed into a table, though he was quick to rise and punch the kid. Not hard enough to break a body part, but hard enough to get a message across.

Boba wasn't the best fighter, though he put up a good enough fight. It was like fighting a youngling high on sugar.

It didn't take long to put Boba in a headlock. He ignores the kid's struggling and leaned over. "I warned you."

Suddenly there was a sizzling in his ear. "All right, all right, that's it! Fight's over!" A clone shouted, a companion beside him.

"No, it ain't!"

Obi-Wan turned, spotting a sentient that had bashed the clones heads together...and was a known associate of the Fett's.

"You got a problem with Boba," it growled. *you got a problem with me!"

Obi-Wan found himself thrown across a table. He felt his head slam against the floor - and blacked out for a minute or two.

When he came to and used the table for support, he found the cateria in riot mode. Prisoners were punching guards, guards were stunning prisoners, everyone was screaming.

"Fight!"

"Let's get them! Let's get them!"

"Riot! Get the guards! Get 'em! Yeah!"

"We need reinforcements in here. Now!"

"Kill the guards! Riot! Riot!"

Some of the convicts were running through the door, shouting and whooping. Obi-Wan rubbed at his head, scanning the cafeteria for Moralo Eval or Cad Bane...and realizing neither were in the cafeteria.

"Oh _shit." _Wincing at the throbbing in his bad leg, Obi-Wan scrambled from his position, weaving and dodging out of the cafeteria. He tried to use the Force to locate Bane or Eval while he ran through the halls, then decided just to follow the bodies of dead clone troopers.

Lights began to flash in the halls.

"Facility on lockdown."

"Facility on lockdown."

"Facility on lockdown."

Obi-Wan ducked into a crevice when some clone troopers ran by him.

"Turn your weapons off stun! Kill the prisoners if you have to!"

…_this is how we treat our prisoners? _

Cad Bane's voice echoed nearby, then Obi-Wan noticed the pair walking by him. "By tomorrow we'll be halfway off this hellhole."

He stepped out of his crevice, waiting a few seconds before saying: "Hey, wait for me."

"No one invited you," Cad Bane snarled.

Moralo put a hand on Bane's chest, grinning. "He killed a Jedi. He could be helpful."

Bane sighed, turning around. _"Fine._ We're wasting time."

* * *

Obi-Wan shouldn't have been surprised that they used the morgue to leave the prison. Climbing beside dead bodies felt...wrong. Plain wrong.

Attempting to shoot a clone in the crematorium - an innocent man - felt _so _wrong.

He tried to block out Cad Bane shooting the man, tried to block out the men that died while they were escaping onto a transport, tried to block out everything while he slumped into a seat.

He knew he was in Moralo Eval's plans now, even if Cad Bane didn't trust him. He knew that even when they stole a ship and began to weave out of Coruscant airspace he would succeed in this mission. That he could be home soon, on Sundari, Satine in his arms and the war far from his mind.

* * *

_Author's note: This chapter took awhile, but I did it! Yay me! _

_This episode intrigues me so much - anyone with me that Obi-Wan went a little dark side during this arc? _

_For everyone who celebrates Thanksgiving - Happy Thanksgiving! For everyone who doesn't - have a wonderful day! _

_ii Digestive Reader ii_


	21. Trying Times

Chapter Twenty-One: Trying Times

* * *

"Hardeen escaped prison?" Padmé asked when her husband walked into their bedroom nearing midnight. "He wasn't even there for - "

"I don't want to talk about it, Mé-Mé." A flicker of a smile crossed his face while he observed the bedroom, which was covered in clothing and beauty products. He dropped the boots in hand beside his side of the bed. "Are you taking the entire apartment?"

"I'm packing for Naboo - remember? Festival of Light in less than two weeks? I'm leaving early to visit my family?"

"Right." He strode to the dresser and began to rifle through his own clothing, extracting a fresh tunic and leggings. "Are you sure that's such a good idea?"

She sighed, carefully rolling a dress into the suitcase. "Why wouldn't it be? Ani, the threat of assassination is nothing new to me."

No response came from him - only a huff while he searched for his undergarments. She studied him a moment, wishing she could reverse time to that fateful night, before Obi-Wan died. She felt horrible to admit that she couldn't even remember the last time she spoke to the Jedi master.

"Have you told Satine about Hardeen's escape?"

He dumped the fresh clothes on the bed, tossed his lightsaber and belt onto the pile, and walked into the 'fresher. "Why are there so many hair products in the sink?"

"Ani!" Padmé clicked the suitcase closed and put it on the floor before following him. "What are you not telling me?"

"Nothing you need to worry about," he muttered, beginning to take off his tunics. The white skin of his many scars shown under the florescent light.

She propped her hands on her hips, ignoring the twinge at putting pressure on her hips. Pressing Anakin for answers was never a good idea, but she was frustrated and far too concerned to remember that. "Really? So if you dash off to some Outer-Rim planet tomorrow and I'm suddenly widowed I won't have a reason why?"

That got his attention. He grimaced, dropping the tunics into the hamper and leaned against the sink. It was so quiet she could nearly hear the whirs of his mechanical arm. "Hardeen escaped with Cad Bane and Moralo Eval to Nal Hutta."

"Nal Hutta?" A cold feeling creeped up her spine at the mention of the planet. "How do you know they're heading to Nal Hutta?"

"The Chancellor told me."

"The Chancellor?"

"Is that a problem? I trust him and - "

Padmé raised her hand to silence him, not even bothering to hide her weariness and physical pain. She stepped away from him when he tried to embrace her, folding her arms over her chest. "We're not having this argument now, Ani. Why would the Council want you to take - "

"The Council isn't authorizing this mission. They don't trust me enough. They think I'll do something reckless and - "

One of their comlink's shrilled in the bedchamber. Neither of them moved to get it, staring each other down. She wanted to yell, to demand why he thought it was a good idea to head to Nal Hutta, the place where Gardulla the Hutt was currently living. The other, less sane part of her wanted to take advantage of his semi-clothed body and forget about everything that was happening. Ha, like wild sex happened anymore, with her health.

"That's Ahsoka's tone," she murmured. "Promise me you won't take her with you."

"Obi-Wan was her master too."

She put her fingers to her temples, letting out a frustrated breath. "Ani...this does not add up. None of this does. Obi-Wan was given two weeks leave before dying by a sniper who is now working with the man willing to assassinate the Chancellor. We've known about this supposed attempt for how many weeks? Then Satine - "

"Do you think he knew?" Anakin muttered, staring at the floor.

Padmé blinked, wondering what he was talking about.

"... Satine's pregnant."

"What?"

Anakin didn't speak for a few long moments. His face was impassive, save for the tears were shimmering in his eyes when he glanced up. The topic of children was always a sore one between them - but not because they didn't want any, but because they did. Badly. Had the war not started, there was little doubt he would have quit the Order to father and care for their brood.

She didn't resist his embrace this time, tucking her head into his shoulder and feeling the cool metal of his arm seep through her dress. "I leave tomorrow."

"I do too."

"Guess we have to make the most of our time together."

* * *

_"Have Mama and you named me yet?"_

_Obi-Wan whipped around, realizing he was back in the reactor chamber on Naboo. He was staring at the little girl _\- _the little girl that was his_ daughter - _and swallowed hard. "What?"_

_The little girl, with her curly hair bound in two braids, cocked her head. She was sitting on the edge of the shaft, legs swinging over the abyss. _

_"You haven't?"_

_"...you won't be born for months."_

_She shrugged, smiling a little. "I'd like a name."_

_Obi-Wan licked his lips, glancing around and shaking his head. He started to note how gray her skin looked and prayed it was just a trick of the light and not a warning that something worse was coming. "You'll...you'll get one. I promise."_

_"What if it's too late?"_

_"What - wait - wait!"_

* * *

Obi-Wan bolted awake, gasping hard. He squeezed his eyes shut, about to wind his fingers in his hair before remembering where he was. Right. On Nal Hutta. In an inn, waiting for Eval and Hardeen to come searching for him.

"Please be okay Satine," he laid back down on the thin mattress, closing his eyes tight. "Please be okay."

* * *

_"Sir - this is borderline illegal."_

Anakin shrugged, glancing from the controls to the Holo of his clone captain. "What the Council says is one thing - "

"How we go about doing it is another," Rex finished, his helmet hiding his face. There was little doubt he was rolling his eyes.

Somewhere behind the Captain, Commander Cody scoffed and muttered: _"Skywalker - out of all the Jedi - Skywalker."_

"Master - we are approaching Nal Hutta. We need to drop out of hyperspace."

"Copy that, Snips." Anakin smiled ruefully, pulling the ship out of hyperspace. The green, gaseous planet of Nal Hutta loomed before them. "I'm just asking you to cover for me, Rex - you'll be fine. The Chancellor will vouch for you should Master Windu ask about my whereabouts."

Shaking her head, Ahsoka stood from her chair and leaned against the pilot's. "Force willing, we will arrest these scums, take them to the nearest prison transfer station, get back to Coruscant before Master Windu realizes we are gone."

_"The Force willing causes me to fall off of buildings."_

Anakin smiled - his first true smile in days - and cut the transmission. It quickly faded while they descended into the thick, green atmosphere of trying planet. The color reminded her of phlegm hacked up during a bad cold.

She watched Anakin's shoulders tense while the planet's surface became visible.

The shuttle flew over leagues of bubbling swamps and small towns, each one humming with activity. Even from the confines of the shuttle she could feel the darkness of the planet, the sinister nature of it. It seemed bent on breaking everyone's spirits, laughing when someone fell dead from exhaustion and cackling when a righteous man committed a horrible act.

A few jumbled curses left Anakin's lips while they found the busy landing zone. He maneuvered through the airspace, setting down in a small space once a group of staggering pedestrians moved out of the way.

He sat for a moment in the pilot's seat, staring ahead out the window. It was hard to tell what he was thinking, and even harder to sense his emotions.

"Master? You okay?"

Anakin rubbed at his neck, wincing a bit. His fingers traced behind his ear, like he was touching something just below the surface of the skin. "Nothing, Snips. Come on."

"What makes you think Obi-Wan's murderer is on Nal Hutta?" Ahsoka asked while she followed Anakin down the ramp. _This place is like Coruscant and Tatooine had a love child,_ she thought while glancing around. _Gross._

"I got a tip from the Chancellor himself," Anakin muttered while they weaved through the crowded port, one hand kept on his lightsaber.

"How are we gonna find them?"

He snorted, glancing at her. "Ahsoka, you should know by now. If you want to find a lowlife?..."

She smiled, scanning the buildings until she found the sleaziest looking one. "You start at the saloon."

"I've taught you well, my young padawan."

"I don't know if teaching is the right word."

"Hey!"

Gamorrean guards waited outside the saloon, eyeing every patron while they passed through the entrance. They snuffled and got ready to fight upon glancing at Anakin and Ahsoka - but ultimately didn't do anything.

Anakin smiled a bit thinly, sidestepping two hookers and walking into the saloon.

If she thought Coruscant saloon's were bad - this was worse. There were beings passed out from drink - and some dead from drugs. Sex workers were everywhere, doing their craft everywhere. She didn't know where to look, for fear of catching sight of something she really didn't want to see.

"Even now Gardulla finds a way to torture me," Anakin muttered before barking something out in Huttese.

_What?_ Ahsoka thought while off-duty Gamorrean guards raised their swords at them, snarling something back in that awful language. Without warning, he used the Force to push them into the counter.

People laughed and shouted, clapping their hands while words were exchanged between Anakin and the guards. He rolled his eyes, and used the Force to pry one of the Gamorrean's swords out of his hands and sending it through the air, where it embedded itself in a creature's head.

Ahsoka widened her eyes in horror while everyone cheered, following her master tentatively while they strode to the bar.

The bartender - a hybrid of some kind - spoke gruffly through a voice modifier, cleaning a glass with a rag that had seen better days. "The fugitives are already gone."

Anakin raised his eyebrows. "All three of them were here?"

"Two came in, met the third."

"When did they leave?" Ahsoka asked, stepping out from behind her master.

"Nothing's free on Nal Hutta, especially information."

Before she could prevent it, Anakin snarled and used the Force to choke the bartender. The legs of creature kicked helplessly. "I don't have time for games.

"You - you just missed them."

Anakin tightened his hold on the bartender. "Keep talking."

"I heard," he started to choke and splutter, "one of them say they...just just bought a ship."

The saloon was silent now, save for the gagging bartender. Anakin didn't move from his position, watching him struggle for a few seconds before dropping him unceremoniously. A ghost of a smirk flickered on his lips while he turned. "Let's go, Snips."

She hesitated, glancing back at the coughing bartender before following.

A Bith stopped them on their way to the ship, speaking rapidly. Ahoska hung back, watching the two converse. She had realized early in her padawan days that her master knew and understood plenty of languages - he just preferred to let Obi-Wan deal with them.

Anakin pulled out a holo of the bounty hunters, gesturing rapidly and saying, "So you only gave them enough fuel to reach the nearest filling station on Orondia, which is owned by your brother? Well, that's a nice little money-making scam."

Ahsoka spoke when he walked up to her a few moments later, leaving the chortling Bith behind. "We better get going. Orondia's pretty deserted. They may steal a ship there, to throw us off their trail."

"I like your thinking."

"Master?" Ahsoka murmured while they walked to their ship, rubbing at her arms. "What did you mean...about Gardulla the Hutt?"

Anakin pressed his lips together, eyes trained ahead. "I was owned by her - are you done asking about my life, padawan?"

_Not even in the slightest,_ she thought, thinking of Senator Amidala.

* * *

Neither of them spoke during the four-hour trip to Orondia, save a few words here and there.

She tried to sleep, but only managed to catch a few winks of sleep.

The image of Anakin at the saloon kept coming to her mind - he was so angry, so ready to end life...for vengence? She understood the need for solace - but murder wasn't the right way.

Besides, Ahsoka rolled over on the stiff mattress and closing her burning eyes. _I have a feeling Hardeen isn't who he says he is._ The thick blanket around her felt suddenly too suffocating - she was usually grateful for its comforting fibers. She stood and headed into the cockpit. It was still strange to take a spot that was usually occupied by Master Kenobi.

Anakin merely glanced at her while she sat, and turned his head back to the blue streaks of hyperspace.

"You should get some sleep."

"Should. Ever been to Orondia?"

"No. I heard it was supposed to be the Outer-Rim version of Coruscant. The oil industry produced to much pollution and fuck - messed up - the atmosphere, right?"

Anakin cracked a smile at her curse. "Something like that. It's still a beautiful planet - aside from the noxious gas fumes and ugly-ass pipes."

It wasn't long before they pulled out of hyperspace and descended into the planet.

Orondia's sky had a purple hue, casting shadows on the many gorges and ravines. She wasn't exactly sure why her Master thought it was pretty - even inside the shuttle the gas fumes were seeping through, making her head ache. Turning to lean her head against the window, she spotted the filling station - and a very familiar figure climbing the ramp of a large, dirty ship.

A figure that was wearing a ranger hat, walking up a ship ramp that had been reported stolen on Coruscant.

"Look! It's Cad Bane."

"Are you sure?"

She gave her Master a disbelieving look. "Who else wears a hat like that?"

"Good point."

Anakin watched the ship prepare for take-off. A feral grin came over his face, and he gave chase a moment later, ramming the hull of their shuttle into the bounty hunter's ship.

The oil station gave way to a mess of rocky terrian and pipelines. The two shuttles continually rammed into each other, metal screeching.

The chase could have been minutes or hours, but suddenly Anakin was scrambling from the pilot's seat, yelling, "Take over! I'll bring them down!"

She glanced back at him in shock, and reached for the controls. The familiarity of them helped calm her racing heart, and she closed her eyes for a millisecond, reaching out into the Force to try and calm herself.

Anakin was there, a blind mess of rage and grief while he battled Cad Bane in top of the ship.

Master Kenobi was there too, wildly trying to maneuver away from the shuttle and - wait -

_What?_

Bane shot at the pipelines, causing an explosion of oil and smoke.

She tightened her grip on the controls while the bigger ship disappeared into the cloud of smoke.

She only just saw the rock formation Hardeen's - Master Kenobi's - ship went under. Her reflexes weren't fast enough to avoid the formation or the ship crashing into hers.

She couldn't prevent the shuttle from spinning widely around into a ditch either - or the whiplash that caused her to black out.

* * *

Ahsoka woke to red emergency lights. She rubbed her head while standing, trying to figure out what happened. Every time she blacked out like this, she feared she was on Mortis again, separated from everyone she cared about in the galaxy.

Right. Oronida. Master Kenobi is Hardeen!

She scrambled up, kicking the jammed ramp down and coughing while she took in her surroundings.

There was only piping equipment around her - that she could climb on. On the mess of metal and pipes she discovered a fight between Anakin and two of the bounty hunters - who, she wasn't sure. She couldn't really see the fight. Really just a blur of light and the faint outlines of their bodies.

Ahsoka spotted the nearest infrastructure - at least fifteen meters away. The infrastructure would put her behind the bounty hunters, where she could easily take them out. Igniting her lightsabers, she used the Force to guide to her jump, and accidentally landed in front of Cad Bane - who was about to shoot an unconscious Anakin.

She deflected the blaster bolts easily, glaring at Hardeen - Master Kenobi - while doing so.

A voice came out of the smoke, followed by the grostque body of Moralo Eval. "The ship is still operational. I got it working. Now let's get out of here."

Bane smirked, tucking his blaster away and tipping his hat. "You're lucky we're in a hurry, little lady. We'll have to dance another time."

Ahsoka stood over her master for a moment, glaring at their backs while they walked away.

She met the eyes of Master Kenobi, who glanced at Anakin and winced. The ship while it took off while Anakin groaned awake.

Shaking her head, she disengaged her lightsabers when the ship took off and knelt to the ground. "Master! Master, are you all right?"

He tried stand - to no avail. A cough left him, and he clutched at his ribs.

"What is it? What's wrong?"

Anakin spoke, his voice hoarse. "That's why I felt a connection. Obi-Wan is still alive."

"I - I don't understand," she whispered, more to herself than Anakin.

"I don't, either. But we're gonna get to the bottom of this. Believe me."

* * *

_Author's note: yes, for those who read "Cyar'ika Jett'i" last year - the chapter and the next few contain several scenes that are word-to-word too that fic. _

_Now I have a question for y'all - I have the rest of this fic written. How many want it published all at once, or a schedule of once a week for the next two months or so? (As there are about 10 chapters left, give or take)_

_Let me know!_

_ii Digestive Reader ii_


	22. Whirlwind

Chapter Twenty-Two: Whirlwind

* * *

Anakin Skywalker was, quite frankly, terrifying to watch while he trained. He zoned everyone and everything, focusing at the task at hand with an intensity that made even the greatest meditation masters ill. With the music blasting in one of the sound-proof training rooms, he punched at one of the heavy bag rapidly, his knuckles bruising and his hair coming out of its bun.

Only a fool could have mistaken the tears on his face for sweat.

"We may have chosen the wrong path in this situation," Mace Windu murmured, folding his arms over his chest while he observed the supposed Chosen One stall for a moment to catch his chest.

"We?" Luminara Unduli glanced at the elder master, folding her arms over her chest. "I objected to this plan - as did Master Mundi, Master Gallia, Master Koon - I believe your former apprentice - "

"I understand your point, Master Unduli. Thank you for enlightening me."

She turned her head back to the glass that separated them from the training room glass - which was, in actuality - a two way mirror. Viewers could look in, but those inside could not look out. They could be sensed, of course - but if Anakin did sense them, he gave no indication, retying the heavy bag cables and beginning to practice something else on it.

"Isn't that a training style taught on Ryl?"

"Naboo," Luminara answered. "From what Padawan Tano tells me - he has mastered several forms of combat...for when a lightsaber is not available."

Windu pressed his lips together. As the creator of Vaapad, she knew he did not disapprove of alternate fighting styles. He encouraged them, in fact.

But the way Skywalker was using the fighting styles as a form of meditation…

Luminara could feel the anger and frustration radiating off of Anakin, barely masking his grief and feelings of hopelessness. He was always a wild card in the Force, shining brightly no matter his mood. It was a miracle he had managed to keep somewhat calm when coming back from his sudden mission, glaring at anyone who dared cross his path and speaking only to Master Yoda.

"Master Unduli?"

"Hmm?"

He shook his head, turning to the training room behind them and palming it open. "Tell Skywalker he received the diplomatic mission to Naboo for the Festival of Light."

"By order of the Chancellor?" Luminara guessed, ignoring the crawl up her spine at the mention of the man. The way he leered at the female Jedi always made her uncomfortable.

"By request of Master Kenobi. He mentioned that Anakin has a soft spot for the planet."

"Ah." Luminara bowed her head at the master, watching him step into the training room. She turned back to Anakin, watching him inspect the blood on his knuckles.

Shaking her head, she palmed the training room open and stepped inside. "Master Skywalker. I have some good news."

* * *

"Ahsoka? Ahsoka, are you listening to me?"

She blinked, looking at her concerned friend in embarrassment. "I'm sorry, Barriss...I'm a bit distracted today."

"Understandable - but that's no reason to ignore someone."

It took Ahsoka a click to realize her friend was jesting. She forced a smile onto her face, tightening the hold on her fork and bringing it to her lips. _I'm eating fruit with a fork...Master would say I'm spending too much time with Senator Amidala._

"It's been an interesting few weeks. Master Skywalker…" she pressed her lips together, remembering how she was not supposed to know of Master Kenobi's mission. "There are no words for what he has been facing."

Barriss took a sip of her tea, leaning her head back against her bed. "No, I imagine not. Master Kenobi and Skywalker...they are not normal Jedi."

"Mavericks," Ahsoka supplied. "That's what Master Windu always says."

"May I confess something?"

Ahsoka spun around in the desk chair. "Shoot."

"I never imagined Kenobi to be so...he was the embodiment of the Code while we were young."

"We still are young."

"Ahsoka. You know what I mean."

Ahsoka dropped the bowl of Ghibli fruit on the desk, wiping away a splash of juice. "I do. Master Kenobi has - had," she corrected herself hastily, drawing her legs up to her chest and rubbing her eyes. "Master Kenobi was a sentient being. Holding him to a pedestal...Believing he can do no wrong...I don't know."

Barriss hummed, tapping her fingers against her mug. "It is true Master Skywalker is moving out of their apartments?"

* * *

Mace was stirring honey into his tea when he heard a knock at his apartment door. He didn't even have to focus on whom it was - Anakin was always a whirlwind in the Force.

"It's open!"

Anakin stepped through the door a moment later, glancing around before catching sight of Mace leaning against the countertop. His hair was still wet - he must have just finished his workout and showered when the request to meet came in. "Master."

"Were you expecting a cot and nothing else?" Mace smirked at the uncomfortable laugh that left the knight, taking a sip of his tea while looking around. It wasn't exactly a sparse apartment - it was more of a flat, with every room mushed into one. Books were scattered over every surface, with paintings and musical and film posters hung on the walls. He'd been offered bigger chambers over the years, but he'd remained stubborn in keeping this place. It was _his._

"Do you like tea Anakin?"

"Ah...no, not really."

"Caf? Cocoa? Beer?"

Anakin rubbed the back of his neck, still rooted in near the entrance. "Cocoa, if you don't mind."

Mace gave a small smile, setting his mug down. "Not at all - it's instant though."

"That's fine." Anakin seemed to take the hint that he was supposed to sit at table, and did so carefully. In the natural light it was easy to recognize how young he really was.

How young and scared.

"Did I scare you with the request to meet?" Mace asked while he poured water from the kettle into a chipped mug and then dug around for a cocoa pack.

"...a bit, yeah." Anakin tapped his fingers against the table, becoming the quiet young man he used to be. It didn't last long though - he stood, the chair scraping against the floor. "Is that an original 'Ice Queen' poster? From the first run over a century ago?"

Mace smiled a little to himself, remembering the many conversations about musicals and films with a young padawan scared he was being sent back to Tatooine at any moment. "It is. First thing I bought when I had an allowance - saved up for months."

"It must have cost a fortune," Anakin murmured in awe, staring at the poster.

"I thought my Master was gonna have a heart attack when she found out how much it cost."

"...she?" Anakin asked, turning around when Mace came forward. He took his mug, staring in confusion. "I thought...I thought Yoda was your master?"

"Oh hardly." Mace went to sit on his circular armchair, folding his legs. "My master was T'ra Saa."

"T'ra... Master Tholme's - umm…"

"His lover, yes. They've been together since before I was a padawan." Mace turned, using the Force to float his mug still on the countertop to him. He sighed at the young man's stare, gesturing to the identical armchair before him. "Sit Anakin - please."

He took a sip of tea when Anakin sat, trying to think of how to begin this conversation. "I'm not blind to emotion or other's affairs - we're all sentient beings who need love and affection, now matter the form. Personally I don't really understand sexual love or the need to be intimate in that way - I believe the Nubians call that asexual? But to each their own. As long as you don't get an STD and sex is consensual I could really care less what anyone does."

Anakin stared at the carpet, holding his mug tightly in his hands. He looked a little yellow - and absolutely exhausted.

_He's probably sleeping even less with the whole Obi-Wan thing._

Mace felt a twinge - well, more of a wall of guilt. He had argued with the green troll for hours and hours about telling Anakin - hell, he hadn't even wanted to send Obi-Wan on the damn mission.

"... everyone preached when I was a kid that attachment was bad. Frowned upon. But then I - everyone has some sort of relationship. Romantic or...or something else. I don't get it."

Mace sighed, setting his tea down on the floor. It didn't take a Force Sensitive to see how on edge Anakin was. About everything.

"There are different schools of thought in the Order. About love and relationships. Things were much different when I was a child...Anakin, I know you think the world of Obi-Wan but - "

"Mace…can we not dicuss that? This Hardeen thing - "

"Let me finish." Mace gave a small smile when the young man sipped at his hot chocolate. "Obi-Wan was fresh out of a toxic and co-dependent relationship - and probably on some level, abusive - with the Duchess Kryze when he became your master. He was drinking and using illegal substances almost daily. There's his PTSD he's never treated, his insomnia, his depression - and that could have very easily tainted your thoughts on relationships until you were old enough to come to your own conclusions."

Anakin set his mug down on the floor, leaning his elbows on his knees. "Why are we discussing this?"

There was no point in avoiding it any longer.

"Because it doesn't take an idiot to realize you and Senator Amidala are in a committed relationship and probably married...and there's more happening in your lives than either of you let on."

Silence. The speeder's outside screeched and zoomed and honked. Footsteps pounded past the apartment door, followed by laughing.

He expected yelling. Denial. Something breaking.

Anakin glanced at Mace, fear on his face. "Don't kick me out of the Order. Please."

Mace jerked his head back, blinking. "Kick you - Skywalker, are you fucking serious? You're one of our best generals, probably our best pilot - hell, your students love you, your padawan thinks you're amazing - the fucking Galaxy is in love with you! Why the hell would we kick you out?"

"...I - I don't know! I'm married! I have - I have Epilepsy! I - I barely understand social cues and - and - "

"Skywalker." Mace rolled his eyes to the ceiling for a moment, waiting for the young man to calm down. "Skywalker... you're not the only Jedi to be married. Trust me. Everyone thinks they have to hide it from everyone else. You're not the only one in a relationship. You're certainly not the only one have some sort of disability - Secura's battled with body dysmorphia for years, Tholme has severe dyslexia, Madame Nu has Lupus, I have Type 1 diabetes - probably 90% of this Order is autistic and has ADHD and some sort of PTSD and so much else."

Anakin stood, pacing around the apartment. It was clear his was battling to keep a panic attack down. He ran his fingers through his long hair repeatedly, sighing and muttering quietly in Huttese.

He waited, picking his tea up and sipping at it.

Waited.

Waited.

"Master Yoda doesn't really know any of this, if that helps you process this Skywalker." Mace watched Anakin turn from the window and look at him, though he didn't move to sit back down.

"...any of what we've discussed?"

"He told me once that diabetes could be cured by having a three cups of tea a day." Mace smiled at the raw laugh that echoed from Anakin. "I have to admit - passing out from ketoacidosis wasn't exactly fun. I still remember T'ra screaming at Yoda outside my hospital room and Yan Dooku holding her back."

Slowly, Anakin walked across the room and sat down on the chair again. "Why is he like that?"

"Master Yoda?" Mace shrugged. "My only defense of him is that he's from another time - truly. When people didn't really announce their medical problems, when Mandalorians hunted Jedi, when people turned to the Dark Side for love."

Anakin sighed, pressing the heel of his palm to his brow. He was quiet for a moment, then began to speak of his Epilepsy, of his wife's health problems. Of his stepfamily, of his fears, of the horrible things that went on in his mind, of how much debt they were in, of the constant fear they were in.

Mace listened. He paused only twice to make sandwiches for the two of them and to check his insulin pump.

It was sort of amazing, he thought when a few hours had passed. That this generation of Jedi kept everything bottled up among their masters, but were so open among each other.

It was always amazing when he made someone sit down and was just the listening ear. To hear what was happening, to be a comforting presence when they felt like they had no one.

Anakin took a breath near 5pm, then seemed to shake himself of the daze he'd been in while talking. "...sorry. I was rambling and -"

"Don't ever apologize for discussing what matters to you Skywalker." Mace leaned forward, hoping his smile was genuine. "If you take anything from today, it's that anything you believe or is scared of happening is valid."

"... Padmé's been pushing me to contact a therapist. Aayla too."

Mace felt his brow crease a bit. "Anakin...you kept mentioning the debt you and Senator Amidala are in...can you afford a therapist?"

"...I... maybe?"

"Yes or no?"

"No."

"Mmm." Mace scratched at his chin. "I'll tell you what Skywalker. By the end of the month, the three of us can sit down and discuss what to do about this insurance and debt thing. I think that's a good first step to helping your mental health and her peace of mind."

Anakin grimaced. "Master Windu...if you're suggesting we apply for the Republic run health care -"

Mace snorted, rolling his eyes while he stood and went to shut the blinds. "Hell no. The Temple has their own insurance - it's not that widespread, which is a shame. Mostly families like the Gallia's, Fisto's, and the Mundi's are on it. Temple workers too, along with Jedi Corp members, Council members, Jedi watchmen, library workers. Probably a few others with severe health issues."

"...and we're eligible?"

"More than eligible Skywalker." Mace went to sit down again. "Skywalker, the only thing that I ask moving forward is that you come to me or any one of your gaggle of friends with issues. There's no need to keep things bottled up inside. God knows we need less of that in this Order."

* * *

_Author's note: my Mace is ooc. Sue me ;) I enjoy my story and what I'm producing. _

_Also - as a disabled content creator the conversation about health insurance is one all too familiar with me. _

_Enjoy this chapter!_

_ii Digestive Reader ii_


	23. The Hours Before The Festival

Chapter Twenty-Three: The Hours Before The Festival

* * *

"...want you two guarding the south entrance, you three the north - and you six - the fifth floor bedchambers. Jacen - do a security sweep of the grounds, have everyone register their clearance numbers. Meet me in the ground briefing chamber when you're done. I want to be present when the Chancellor's ship arrives in the atmosphere this afternoon."

Sabé frowned, tuning out Captain Panka's words when she saw several guards not quite looking at them - more over her shoulders. She followed their gazes and shook her head. "Captain - we have a visitor."

Panaka raised his eyebrows and turned around, only to let out a short chuckle. "Senator Amidala - care to say a few words?"

Padmé smiled, folding her hands before her while she walked into the briefing room. Her boots thunked against the marble floor. "It would be an honor, Captain. I thank you all for your service - tonight is a night for family, not serving. But I can only hope that this time next year, we all can stand beside our loved ones and not worry about an attack by immoral beings who seek to hurt time-honored traditions and innocent civilians."

The guards bowed, and with a gesture from Sabé all of them filled out of the briefing room.

"I would love to stay and chat, my dear...but that Master Windu has some things to discuss with me." Captain Panaka shook his head in exasperation, and embraced Padmé before leaving the briefing room.

Then it was just two of them, standing on opposite sides of the holo-table. Sabé side-stepped it and gathered her friend in a hug. "I thought you were arriving in two hours."

Padmé sighed, looking weary and much too old when she pulled away. "I have been on planet for a week - my family has held me hostage. My formal arrival is in two hours, just an hour before Bail's. I decided to sneak into the palace to visit some friends. Yané was particularly pleased."

Sabé wasn't terribly hurt her friend didn't contact her, but nonetheless she smiled and teased, "You've been on-planet for a week and didn't tell me? Jerk."

"Yes, thank you Sabé. Just what I needed to hear from you." Padmé, in all her beautiful realiga, looked out of place in the palace briefing room. She leaned against one of the counters and sighed.

Sabé's smile faltered, remembering the shocking transmission from the Jedi Order. She settled beside her friend and took her friend. "I'm sorry about Obi-Wan, Mé-Mé. These past few weeks...it must be hard."

"I don't know how Anakin is handling it," Padmé whispered, rubbing at her ring finger - where there was currently no wedding ring. It must have been around her neck, where it often hung during public events. "I have no idea. I got one transmission from him, but the girls were present and...he looked tired. Angry."

"I would be too. I am angry at Obi-Wan - and I barely know him anymore."

"I don't even remember our last conversation." Padmé blinked rapidly, trying to keep tears from flowing down her face and ruining her makeup.

"But you don't have to worry about remembering anymore. He's alive and well."

"Until Satine gets to him. Oh, I don't pity that argument."

Sabé couldn't help her nose wrinkle in disgust at the Duchess' name. She remembered a much younger, clean-shaven Padawan Kenobi panting above her, saying that woman's name instead of hers, not even realizing what he had done until an argument had occurred weeks later.

Shoving the memory away, Sabé nudged her friend's shoulder. "How much longer are you on planet?"

"Six days."

"Then we have a girls night one of those days - and no, you're not saying no. I'll comm the handmaidens, you'll come out of that Lake House wearing something horribly skimpy and five inch heels. And we'll all get wasted. Deal?"

"I can't drink with all my - "

"Then you're our designated driver."

Padmé opened her mouth to object, then closed it and shook her head. "Deal."

* * *

Just get through tonight, just get through tonight, Padmé kept thinking every time her picture was taken. She had abhorred leaving her family behind to celebrate the Festival alone, but being Senator prevented her from missing Theed's celebration.

It was impossible not to think of the possible attack Dooku was planning, or the Holo-news reporting that Duchess Kryze had been in the hospital for - days, or that Obi-Wan Kenobi was alive.

She just kept smiling so much her mouth ached, kept shaking hands, kept focusing on her keeping her formal arrival to the Palace of Theed perfect.

Sabé did step beside her at one time, whispering, "Anakin is part of the Jedi Security detail on the Chancellor's ship."

It did little to ease her worried conscious. In fact, it made it worse. Yes, she was able to see Anakin - but at what cost? How much of this secrecy could she take? How badly could Dooku wound him...again?

Padmé tried to keep her mask in place, the frigid look that made her colleagues cower in fear. Even the Queen didn't speak to her - but Bail did, because he was used to her silences, knowing there was a deeper reason behind them but never asking what the reason was.

She always appreciated that.

It was nearing late afternoon when they - guards, the Queen, Bail, and Padmé - made their way to the teeming landing bay of Theed Palace. She felt her shoulders gradually loosen whole the ship landed.

_Ani's safe right now, nothing will happen._

Two clones stepped out before the Chancellor, then the Chancellor himself, smiling so wide he looked like an eel.

Anakin emerged last, flanked by Ahsoka and his clones Cody and Rex. A small smile crossed his lips when their eyes meet. Goofy was probably the best word to describe it.

She had a hard time pulling her gaze away.

Queen Neyutnee bowed her head.

Chancellor Palpatine took the queen's hands and gave a wider smile. "Greetings, Your Majesty."

Padmé stepped forward - it was her duty, as Senator, to be the one speaking. "Welcome home, Chancellor. I'm thankful to the Jedi for bringing you here safely."

"Yes, Senator, it is good to be back. Although," he gestured to Master Windu beside him, "I think the amount of security that has accompanied me is overkill."

Master Windu looked he was withholding a scoff. "With all due respect, Chancellor, where your safety is concerned there is no such thing as overkill."

"So you keep insisting, Master Jedi." Palpatine shrugged and began to walk away. "But I've grown tired of discussing it."

Queen Neeyutnee led the Chancellor away, talking about the new additions to the Festival of Light. She was followed by a majority of the crowd, whom were listening to the rulers converse.

Anakin brushed passed her, tapping out a quick rhythm on her shoulder while he walked just a few steps in front of her. It was code for _I love you._

Padmé smiled, falling in step beside Ahsoka. "Anakin, Ahsoka, welcome to the festival."

Ahsoka spun around in a circle, her eyes wide while she took in the atmosphere. "I've never seen the Festival of Light. Sounds like a big event."

Anakin turned to glance at them. "They're expecting a large crowd, which means it will be difficult for Dooku to attack during the ceremony. That leaves the palace as the best opportunity for an ambush."

Padmé couldn't help worry trickle into her voice, remembering the nightmares Anakin faced every time he faced Dooku. "Are you that certain an attack is imminent?"

He sighed. "I'm afraid so - which is why I'm making Ahsoka your personal bodyguard."

Ahsoka bowed her head jokingly. "At your service, my lady."

"If there's trouble, Ahsoka will get you, the Queen, and the rest of your staff to safety."

"What about you?" Padmé asked.

"Hopefully, I'll be where I always am."

"He means saving the day," Ahsoka whispered.

Padmé shook off her unease and smiled. "Of course he does."

"Will your family be joining us in Theed, Senator?"

"No - they will be celebrating in my home village. It's...been many years since I had the pleasure of witnessing my village's celebrations."

"The sacrifices of a Senator," Ahsoka quipped.

Padmé forced a smile, watching Anakin's shoulders tense considerably. "Yeah... sacrifices of a Senator."

* * *

Satine woke in a cold sweat, trying to remember what her dream was about and failing. She pressed her lips together, trying not to cry. The bed felt so _empty. _

She hated this. She hated all this secrecy and lies.

Taking a deep breath, Satine drew her legs to her chest and tried to slow her hammering heart.

_Stress wasn't good for her now._

Tears fell now. Satine turned her head, staring at the spot usually occupied by her riddur. It wouldn't be long before her body decided to be sick at everything.

She put a tentative hand on her stomach. It felt like her imagination, but there was a slight swell now.

_Girl. It was a girl. They were have a daughter._

Satine hadn't been able to tell him that before the mission started. She'd only managed to send the sono and hope he recieved it.

She sighed, knowing she wouldn't be able to fall back asleep. The sense of foreboding was too strong.

"Festival of Light should be on anyways," Satine muttered while pushing the covers back.

* * *

"Master Kenobi made contact. He gave us a detailed plan on tonight's plot against the Chancellor," Master Windu paused at her lack of reaction, glancing to the senators before continuing. "There will three bounty hunters disguised as senate guards. Eval Moralo will be the getaway driver - Obi-Wan is the sniper - "

"He hates blasters," Master Skywalker muttered from one of the couches, more to himself than the assembled peoples.

"Yes - the sniper is loaded with stun blasters." Mace folded his arms behind his back, repositioning his feet on the living chamber carpet. "The bounty hunters have a Parwan that can pass through the ray shield around the main platform undetected. The attack is supposed to take outside."

"And here we thought it was a Separatist rumor," Queen Neyutnee murmured, drinking from her wine glass. She ignored the Jedi around her living chamber - the security heads to - and stood from the sofa. It was so quiet she could hear the fish tank bubbling away and her boots thunking on the floor while she strode to the window. The grounds were a flurry of activity - the Festival only came once a year, after all, and everything must be perfect.

She wasn't a very outspoken person, speaking only when necessary, preferring for her gaze to wither an arguer away to nothing.

She held the wine glass to her chest, tapping one manicured finer against the rim. "If these bounty hunters are supposed to be masquerading as senate guards - how are we ensure every guards identity? They are constantly switching throughout the night, and patrolling various parts of the palace grounds and Theed."

Sabé - sitting on the arm of a chair occupied by Senator Amidala - scoffed. "You leave that to us, Your Majesty. I can assure you that none of my men will not allow any guard - senate or otherwise - to let bounty hunters through the ranks."

Queen Neyutnee studied the handmaiden-turned-guard in the glass, mulling over an answer.

Chancellor Palpatine spoke, like something was amusing him. "My apologies, Madame Sabé, but I am afraid that even the most vigilant can be blind. Perhaps we should let the Jedi take care of security matters, and the guards focus on patrolling the grounds?"

"That is not a terrible idea," Bail Organa interjected. "I'm sure the public would appreciate the added security tonight."

"You speak like Naboo is dangerous," Ahsoka Tano quipped.

_Only the politicians it produces,_ Queen Neyutnee thought, draining the wine glass. She met the Chancellor's gaze in the window, a cold chill working up her spine when he smiled. "We shall use His Excellency's plan, Sabé. It makes the most sense. Master Skywalker and Windu - you two will be in charge of arresting the bounty hunters, correct? And Padawan Tano will be guarding us?"

Mace Windu nodded. "That is correct."

"Then I don't see why we're still having this conversation."

* * *

_Author's note: hellooooo! Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, happy Wednesday! :D_

_Enjoy this chapter! _

_ii Digestive Reader ii_


	24. The Festival of Light Gone Wrong

Chapter Twenty-Four: The Festival of Light Gone Wrong

* * *

The sun had set by the time the Festival was to begin. Ahsoka stood by the entourage, shifting from foot to foot and failing to stay still while Master Windu spoke to security. Stay by the stands. Check. Make sure the acting queen, Chancellor, and Senator were the first to get inside should the attack happen. Make sure Viceroy Organa had a gun to defend himself - ha. Like that would happen. Lead them to the throne room, where they would be safe. Keep the guards out of blaster range. Only allow Madame Sabé or Captain Panaka near.

Anakin put a hand on her shoulder. "Relax, Snips. You're making me nervous."

"There are too many people. I can't focus with all these Force presences outside on the stands. It's like constant white noise."

"Close your eyes, take a deep breath. Focus on one presence - everyone else should fade into the background."

Ahsoka nodded, choosing Senator Amidala to focus on. It was easiest to focus on her - she was the one Anakin was truly worried about. The jittery feeling gradually disappeared while she breathed in and out a few times.

"Better?" Anakin asked when she opened her eyes.

"Mmm hmm."

He cracked a smile. "I wouldn't be Obi-Wan's apprentice if I didn't pick up a few mediation techniques."

"You wouldn't be Obi-Wan's apprentice if you didn't have a flair for the dramatics," Master Windu countered while he strolled up to them. The corners of his lips twitched while Anakin rolled his eyes.

From outside, the sound of the opening fireworks began and the crowd started to cheer.

"Twenty minutes until we head out," Captain Panaka yelled into the hallway.

"I always get so nervous before these events," Chancellor Palpatine murmured to the queen and the senators. He made a show of fanning himself.

"Here." Mace held out two ear pieces. "These are connected to a private channel. Only myself, Master Yoda, and Obi-Wan have had access to it these past weeks. We agree you two should have access to Obi-Wan tonight, should anything happen."

Anakin didn't move to take one. "How kind of you to trust us."

"Thank you, Master Windu." Ahsoka took the ear pieces and shoved one into her master's hand. She glared at him until he muttered his thanks.

"I want you to be vigilant. The safety of the Chancellor and the queen are of the utmost important."

"And the senators? Senator Amidala?" Anakin asked, fitting his own earpiece in and wincing. "The former queens? Are their safeties not important?"

"Skywalker. You know what I mean." Mace checked his comlink when it beeped. "I will join Captain Panaka outside. I will see you shortly."

Ahsoka knew her master should have answered May the Force be with you.

He didn't, staring levelly at Master Windu until the latter turned and departed.

She sighed, and resigned herself to waiting with the chattering politicians until it was time to head outside.

"Hey." Padmé nudged her arm while they walked out, smiling gently. "Try to enjoy the show, Ahsoka. It only comes once a year."

They stepped onto the platform. Hundreds of people cheered at their appearance, the noise echoing around them. Ahsoka took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and watched the politicians she was in charge of take their seats.

* * *

Padmé resisted the urge to grasp the japor snippet when the cheering died down. She watched her husband speak into a wrist-comm, and a ray shield come up over their platform, isolating them from the people of Naboo. The Chancellor stood to give his speech, smiling and waving.

"Have your blaster?" Queen Neyutnee murmured beside her. "You know how these types of things go."

She glanced at the queen, surprised and amused. "Two, actually. And a knife."

"You keep weapons on you during a festival?" Bail asked quietly, his face revealing his alarm. His only response was a few snickers from the Nubians around him.

Palpatine began to speak. "It is an honor to be here for this momentous occasion. The pride I feel for this planet cannot be put into words. Eight-hundred and forty seven years ago, Naboo joined the Republic - and tonight we celebrate that union!"

"I believe that was your speech ten years ago, was it not Senator Amidala?" Captain Typho whispered while the Chancellor continued to speak.

Padmé nodded, watching her husband hold a hand to his ear and say something. She felt anger bubble inside her when he grimaced. Doesn't the Council know earpieces interfere with the inhibitor chip wavelengths? That Anakin never had the inhibitor chip removed when he left Tatooine - that it was only deactivated?

"Take a moment and look around this glorious city of yours. It wasn't long ago this was all plasma mines. Naboo has indeed come a long way. But as we chart a bold course for the future, let us never forget our past!" Chancellor Palpatine spread his arms wide while fireworks burst into the sky. His face glowed in the light, making him look pale and sickly and...not quite right.

She found herself not caring about the lightshow. She didn't want to look up and watch the ancient wars between the Gungans and the Nubians, the myths of Nubian trickster gods, the battle against the Trade Federation, the coronation of the first queen.

She did, however, because holo-cams were floating around, and she didn't really wish to be dragged through the mud by the media because she chose not to look at the light show.

"Skywalker! The shield generator!" Master Windu was suddenly shouting.

Padmé watched while Anakin darted over to the shield generator to stop the Parwan from tampering with it.

He didn't get there fast enough.

The shield generator exploded. Through the haze of smoke she watched Anakin get knocked down, the Chancellor disappear, and heard her people screaming.

Over the din, Ahsoka was shouting, "This way, Your Majesty. Hurry!"

Had the circumstances been different, Padmé would have ignored the padawan and leaped into the fray. Her captain must have sensed her itch, because he gripped her elbow and didn't let go until everyone had scrambled down the stand and into the palace, away from the chaos and shouting.

Sabé was running in the opposite direction they were, followed by a group of women.

Handmaidens. Crowd control.

"Avoid the stairs," Captain Panaka was shouting over the comms. "I want everything secured! Through the hallways, to the throne room! I'll meet you there!"

She stopped before the entourage turned the corner, staring down the hall and to the platform. Her heart was hammering hard. She didn't know how much running she could do.

"Senator Amidala!" Captain Typho was at her side again, meeting her wild-eyed gaze. He kept his voice low. "Anakin will be fine - come on!"

Padmé shook her head, then grasped her captain's outstretched hand. Together they moved through the hall, running at a hobble. She could feel her body giving out, her breath giving out.

Everything was a blur when the door of the throne room slammed closed.

Sabé was suddenly there, easing her to the ground. Her hands were firm but gentle. "Calm on, sit down - Gregor, you fucking idiot."

"You're welcome."

"Head in knees, Mé-Mé." Sabé rubbed her arms. "We don't need you heading to the hospital tonight of all nights."

"What's wrong with her?" The Queen asked nervously.

Padmé gulped in air, squeezing her eyes shut, trying to remember meditative breaths. Her heart was pounding so fast and so hard. Everything was swirling, even with her eyes closed. Everything hurt.

She was aware of everyone staring at her, out of it though she was.

"Gregor, do you have - "

"No...no." Padmé grimaced with pure effort from talking. "Don't give me anything. I'll be fine."

* * *

Time stretched endlessly while they waited for news about the attack. Ahsoka had lost her earpiece during the run to the throne room, and quite frankly didn't care. She milled about, anxious and unnerved as the rest of them.

Queen Neyutnee sat on the throne, drafting a statement and never quite finishing it. Viceroy Organa sat on the steps, nursing a glass of bourbon with Captain Typho and the queen's advisor. No one was in the mood to talk.

Padmé was alone, recovered and perched on a window seat, looking out the window and not speaking to anyone. She had her blaster tossed on the window ledge, toying with some kind of necklace. Bits of her hair were falling out of her bun, and her eyeliner was smudged. Worry radiated off of her….worry and anger and fear.

Ahsoka approached her cautiously, and put a hand on the elder woman's tense shoulder. "They'll be okay, Padmé."

Padmé pressed her lips together, staring down at the necklace. A japor snippet. "Yes...but at what cost?"

"Huh?"

"It's been an hour - where are they?"

"Ma'am." Captain Typho stood, holding up a hand for attention. He held the comlink at arms length, and answered the incoming transmission. A hologram of a tired and bedraggled Jedi knight appeared. "Anakin - good news?"

_"We have the Chancellor - he's unhurt. Bane and Eval are in custody."_

"And Master Kenobi?" Bail Organa asked while he rose.

_"Here, my friend."_ The body of Rako Hardeen stepped into the frame and smiled.

"Well...that face is certainly different."

Master Kenobi laughed, though his eyes were a bit sad. _"We're about twenty minutes the palace. Anakin will escort the the prisoners to the Republic outpost a parsec away, and be back by morning. Mace and I will come back here with the Chancellor."_

Padmé bowed her head, turning back to the window.

The transmission clicked off.

"We should probably release a statement," Queen Neyutnee murmured.

"Allow Master Windu to help," Senator Organa said. "He knows the whole story."

"Are you okay?" Ahsoka whispered the the Senator.

Padmé nodded, though she didn't say anything.

Ahsoka couldn't help herself when the entourage came back. The moment she saw them, she tackled Master Kenobi in a hug. He was stiff for all of two seconds before enfolding her in his arms, sighing in relief.

Distantly, she was aware of Senator Amidala requesting a medic to ensure everyone's well-being. Somewhere the Chancellor was speaking, saying that a statement about the night's events must be released - Master Kenobi was alive, after all. That was certainly newsworthy in itself.

"Thank the Force you're okay," he murmured when they finally parted. Rako Hardeen's face smiled at her, but it was definitely Obi-Wan Kenobi speaking to her. "I feared you would be dragged into this debacle and wind up getting hurt."

"Alive and well, Master Kenobi. You can stop worrying about me."

He shook his head and smiled - though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "I do not believe I will ever stop worrying over Anakin and you."

Satine clicked the Holonet off, too disgusted about the media's reaction. She wanted to hide, to field every question about if she knew what happened, her thoughts, if they were stay together.

No, she didn't agree with the Council's decision. She had made that clear to Mace Windu nearly three, four weeks ago.

It was funny, how every big event was marred by tragedythis year.

The wedding on Alderaan, the Festival of Te Taylir Mand'alor the Festival of Light…

Satine leaned back on her couch, then bit her lip when her back twinged.

* * *

"Momma!" Pooja yelled from the sitting room. "Aunt Mé-Mé is on the holo!"

"I'll be there in a moment, baby!"

"Uncle Ani too!" Ryoo added gleefully.

"Anakin?" Sola muttered, thinking of the sweet boy she had met over dinner two years ago. The sweet boy she had learned during the Blue Shdow Virus ordeal was her brother-in-law. Her girls were still clueless of the marriage - she didn't know how long that could be kept up. What type of good friends share a bed when they visit?

"Hey Sola," Darred appeared in the doorway, looking a little shaken. "You might want to come see this."

Sola frowned, taking her hands out of the five-blossom dough and wiping her hands on a dishtowel. "What is it? Did those two announce - "

"General Kenobi is alive."

"What?"

* * *

Aayla woke to yelling in the sitting room. She groaned, pushing fingers to her temple when she sat up. Last night's migraine had yet to disappear - and the flood of emotions she was hit with was certainly not helping in the slightest. "Kit - Kit?"

The bed was empty of her lover. A bit uneasy, she rose from the bed, pulling a robe from the wardrobe. She stepped into the sitting room, surprised to find Bant and Kit yelling at each other, slipping between Basic and their Mother tongues. The Holo was on mute, showing a very pretty Twi-Lekki host.

The holo was showing a triple split screen: one of Obi-Wan at a formal event, one of Rako Hardeen, and one of a young man - wait, that was Obi-Wan Kenobi, shaved and walking around the Naboo palace with Master Windu.

She braced herself on the couch, eyes wide while she stared at the screen. Kit had noticed her, putting a warm hand on her shoulder.

"Aayla?"

"Would you like to tell your girlfriend what has occurred, Master Fisto?" Bant was practically snarling, though her eyes were glistening with tears. "Or would you like the media too?"

"Love?" Aayla asked warily, stepping away from him when he grimaced. "What's going on?"

* * *

"Korkie - Korks."

Korkie glanced upwards at his uncle Jared, whom was sliding into the seat ahead of him. He raised his eyebrows, wondering why he was so quiet. "What?"

Jared took a sip of his cafeteria-bought caf, keeping his voice low. "Do you think Sati'ika knew about the whole Obi-Wan thing?"

"Oh God, not you too. You're the seventh person to ask me and we haven't even had our first class."

"Satine's my sister - she's your aunt. It's a little different nephew." Jared knew other people in the classroom were watching them curiously - damn it. "Come on, there's no way she couldn't have known."

"I don't know...I'm worried about her though. Even before this whole ordeal she wasn't acting right - and neither was General Kenobi."

The bell rang, signaling the start of class. Jared shook his head, a silent agreement to talk about this later passing between them. He stood, moving to his usual seat in the back of the classroom.

Korkie sighed, rubbing at his temples before pulling out his textbook from his bag - and then frowned when he saw his professor speaking to the receptionist of the school outside the classroom. He turned to look at his uncle, whom shrugged.

His professor nodded, coming in after the receptionist.

The room quieted down.

"Class," Professor McGregor muttered. "Excuse the interruption - but is Cadet Kryze here?"

Both Korkie and Jared stood.

The receptionist - Ms. Rey - wrinkled her nose in confusion.

Professor McGregor explained, heading to his desk. "Prince Kryze is the one in the middle row - Ser Kryze is the back row, the Duchess' youngest brother. You'll probably want both of them. I don't want the Kryze clan cutting funding in an act of passive aggressiveness."

That got a few giggles from the class. Korkie kept his face impassive while he gathered his things. He waited for his uncle at the entrance to the classroom, much to the annoyance of Ms. Rey.

"Come on. The headmaster wants to see you." Ms. Rey stalked out of the room and down the hall, causing the boys to walk after her swiftly.

"Do you think something happened?" Jared asked quietly while they passed busy classrooms. "Why wouldn't her staff contact us personally? Or any of our aunts or uncles or my siblings contact us?"

"I... don't know. I don't know. I just...have a bad feeling about it."

* * *

"Korkie, Jared. Thanks for being here."

They bowed their heads at the headmaster, trying not to glance at each other. The room looked like something out of a Holomovie - old antiques, dusty portraits, a fireplace crackling beside a large desk.

They stood in the center of the room, waiting for the Headmaster to finish talking to the receptionist.

"Is something the matter Headmaster?" Korkie asked, trying to keep a straight face.

"Did something happen to my sister?"

The Headmaster - an ancient woman with long white hair and too many wrinkles - sighed while she sat. "We don't know. We just received word that Duchess Kryze is in the hospital and wants you two pulled out of classes for the time being."

"What?" Korkie practically screeched.

Jared frowned, stepping forward. "Headmaster - it makes sense why Korkie needs to be out...he's the head of the government in a scenario. But why me?"

"That I cannot answer, Cadet Kryze. You have an escort outside waiting for you - it will take you both to the hospital." The Headmaster sighed and folded her hands on her desk. "I may not always agree with Her Grace's politics, but I certainly do not wish her any I'll will. Send her my best boys."

* * *

_Author's note: hellooooooo! I deciding to post this story over the next few weeks - this story should be done by the end of January :D_

_Enjoy!_

_ii Digestive Reader ii_


	25. I'm So Sorry

Chapter Twenty-Five: I'm So Sorry

* * *

"So we're not gonna tell the public that Dooku was on Naboo?"

Mace snorted, glancing upwards while he leaned against the Holotable and read his datapad. "Would you look at that - without your beard you look like a padawan learner."

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes, fingers running through his short hair while he walked into the transfer room they were loaned in the palace. He had used a serum to grow a bit of hair on his head, though it burned his scalp and itched like mad. The beard he would grow naturally.

"To answer your question - no, we will not. To admit that a Separatist leader such as Dooku managed to infiltrate a core world...not a good idea." Mace went back to his datapad briefly, then powered it down. "Does it feel better to be back in your own skin?"

"Well...removing the voice modifier was an unpleasant experience." Obi-Wan leaned again the wall. "But just doing my job."

Mace stayed silent for a moment, then shook his head. He didn't want to broach the subject - well, multiple subjects - but he knew he had too.

"Anakin took leave from here," Mace started. "He escorted Senator Amidala home."

Silence. The birds chirped outside.

"... really? Well that's - "

"Do you think I'm an idiot Obi-Wan?"

"What - what? Of - "

The only indication Mace was amused was a slight twitch of his lips. There was a bit of a twinkle in his eyes, though he didn't say anything more about that subject. He would let the two of them sort out their issues.

But…

Obi-Wan still didn't look like himself, glancing around, his face falling into a troubled -

"You heard the Holo?" Mace broached gently. He had heard last night, as everyone had heard, that Duchess Kryze had been rushed to the hospital. No one knew what was happening.

"...yes. I have tried to contact her, to no avail. Her siblings know nothing either - they're contacting me, asking if I know."

"They're not mad?"

"Concern for their loved ones trump's a Mandalorian's anger any day."

Mace shook his head. "It's amazing what you learn about other cultures, even at my age."

Obi-Wan had to laugh, though that was cut off by a comlink bleeping. He patted his tunics before shrugging, then nodding when he realized it was Mace's.

The tone was not something he was familiar with - a few notes of some old showtune.

Crown Prince Klaudius Robert Kryze - or Cadet Kryze - or Korkie - popped upwards. He was dressed in a formal blue tunic and beige leggings, leaning against his aunt's desk. It was strange to see him out of his school uniform - if he made a public appearence, that is. He kept mostly to himself.

"Prince Kryze?" Mace asked, staring at the small Holo of the Mandalorian Crown Prince. He refrained from glancing over to the Jedi Master leaning against the wall. "What can I do for you?"

Korkie Kryze tilted his head, sharp eyes scanning him. He looked so much younger in the formal attire...and so _tired. _

Well...he _was _just a kid.

_"Master Windu - I must offer my congratulations on saving the life of the Chancellor and preventing the downfall of the Republic."_ It was easy to hear Korkie's pedigree in his voice.

"Well of course - it is the duty of the Jedi to save those whom are at risk, no matter their status."

_"Mmm - really?"_

Obi-Wan raised his eyebrows, looking pale and ill. A dreadful feeling began to creep into the air.

_At least he looks like Obi-Wan now._

Mace frowned, staring at the prince. "Is there something you need Your Highness? Congratulations does not appear in a Mandalorian's repertoire - especially without a catch."

_"I'm glad you asked - I need to speak to General Kenobi."_

Obi-Wan straightened, taking half a step forward.

Mace frowned. "I'm afraid Master Kenobi is - "

_"I'm aware he is alive, as everyone is in the Galaxy at this point."_ Korkie's firm posture slumped a bit. He tried to smile, though it failed. _"It's about Duchess Kryze - you are aware she was in the hospital?"_

Obi-Wan glanced at the Holotable when it pinged, nodding to Master Yoda shimmering into existence. He gestured to the small Hologram front of him, then slid his gaze back.

"It's been on the Holo-mags for days - something about a kidney stone?"

_"Can I just speak to General Kenobi?"_

"What could possibly be so - "

_"I don't think you understand - "_

"I will not be ordered - "

_"Duchess Kryze had a miscarriage two days ago."_

Mace winced, glancing upwards.

Obi-Wan sunk into the wall, pressing a fist to his lips, wrapping on arm tightly around his stomach. Tears were gathering at his eyes. The temperature in the room dropped.

Without fanfare, Mace turned the comlink around, wishing he had just given it to Obi-Wan in the first place and left the room. The young man barely acknowledged it, staring somewhere in the distance.

It was quiet for too long.

Finally, Obi-Wan spoke. His voice was barely a whisper. "...do they know the cause?"

_"...no. But...Auntie told me that it was a girl. She said you would want to know that... she's trying not to act like it, but she really needs you right now."_

Obi-Wan nodded, squeezing his eyes shut. Sitting there, he looked more like a little kid than someone whom had just risked his life for weeks. "I'll...I'll be there as soon as I can."

Korkie opened his mouth, then nodded and gave a salute. The Hologram disappeared, the comlink whirring to a stop.

The room was silent, save for Master Yoda's cane tapping against his chair in the Hologram.

Mace leaned forward, glancing away from the scene. Too many memories were floating through his head. He wondered why fate was repeating itself.

Obi-Wan wiped at his tears, trying to calm his breathing. "I...Masters, we never meant too - "

_"Conceive a child?"_ Yoda asked bluntly. _"For that, in essence, lovemaking is."_

"It was an accident," Obi-Wan whispered. "We...we were trying to figure out what to do."

Yoda huffed. _"A good thing, this loss may be. A test. Too attached to the Duchess, you are. Love her, maybe you should not."_

Mace grimaced, looking at the Grandmaster and trying to figure out what to say. He didn't know how this man could sometimes be so cruel. "Just let him go," he whispered, "he just lost his baby girl - let him go to Mand - "

_"Take sides, you are, Master Windu? Encouraging this union, you are?" _

"...Master Kenobi is no good to us while grieving. Worrying. He needs time to recover from this mission - let him do it on Sundari."

Obi-Wan said nothing. He was staring at the ground, tears falling down his face.

_"To the Order, your duties are, Master Kenobi. Remember that, you should."_

Mace looked at the young Jedi Master, who still hadn't spoken. He wanted to cross the small space between them and comfort the man he had known since boyhood, to tell him everything was going to be okay, that the Galaxy wasn't ending. He would have too, if Master Yoda wasn't frowning at both of them.

"Obi-Wan?" he murmured instead.

Obi-Wan swallowed, turning his head. He wiped at his face, to no avail. Tears kept streaming down his face. Through a strained, broken voice he whispered: "I'll start my leave tonight, masters."

_"Take care of the Third Systems Army, who will?"_

"...Cody is more than capable for a few weeks." Obi-Wan straightened, his gaze haunted while he looked at them. "I do not believe I will be able to attend to my duties much masters, while on leave. I will be otherwise occupied."

He bowed, then turned on his heel and walked out of the room.

Yoda sighed, shaking his head. _"A death of a child, unfortunate it is. But grieve, Obi-Wan should not. In a better place, his daughter is."_

"Obi-Wan knows loss well, yes...but I am afraid I have to disagree Master Yoda. He needs to grieve this...and then move on, but when he's ready."

_"Too much like his father, he is." _Yoda rubbed at his head. _"Believe Obi-Wan will leave the Order, do you? This time, for good?"_

Thinking about all the times Obi-Wan nearly left the Order and didn't...well, that list was extensive. But this time just felt... different.

"We've always known that Obi-Wan would leave the Order," Mace murmured. "I am not surprised it will be too Duchess Kryze, though I am saddened that it had to happen this way."

_"Stay together, they will? Been through much, they have."_

Mace had to smile a little. "Problems of their own making, mostly. But this time...yes, I believe they will."

Yoda hummed, tapping his knee a moment before giving a sly grin. _"Bet on it, you wish too Master Windu?"_

"My pockets are dry from the last time we made a bet."

* * *

"Race ya, Uncle Ani!"

"What - hey! That's cheating!" Anakin shouted, followed by a burst of giggling.

"There's your husband," Jobal snickered, staring out the window a moment before shaking her head and returning to the task of rinsing the star fruit.

Over the rain, Padmé listened to the sound of her laughing nieces scrambling up the steps. What she wouldn't give to hear those voices every day.

"We're home!" Ryoo announced, pressing her face against the screen.

"We jumped in puddles! And played tag!" Pooja added, muscling her sister out of the way and opening the door wide.

"You made Uncle Ani jump in puddles?" Padmé asked, laughing when she glanced up and saw her nieces standing in the threshold. They were, covered in mud and dripping rainwater on the floor. Her husband jogged up the steps of the awning covered entrance, freezing when he saw her staring. "Um...Sola?"

"Oh my goodness," Jobal murmured, leaning against the counter. "You three certainly went on an adventure."

Sola glanced at her daughters, then dropped the bowl she had been holding on the counter and and folded her arms. "Ryoo! Pooja! Your faces are filthy! And your dresses! What happened to your cloaks?!"

"I can explain," Anakin said hurriedly, raising his hands and shooting Padmé _a help me!_ look. He was equally as muddy, hair flopping in his face.

Padmé did her best not to laugh, earning an exasperated look from her sister. Smirking, she took the star fruit her mother handed her and began to chop it.

"Don't blame them, Sola. We were playing tag when it started raining. The puddles were too tempting. " Anakin ran a hand through his hair, having the decency to look ashamed. "Girls, come here and take your cloaks and boots off. I don't want your grandmother to be mad at me for getting her floor dirty."

"As if I could be mad at you, Anakin!" Jobal called, moving to the oven.

"That makes one Naberrie!" Anakin answered, and then spoke to their nieces in a stage-whisper. "Your aunt yells at me when I put my elbows on the table."

"No!"

"You do?" Sola asked, looking rather amused.

"That was one time!" Padmé shouted back, earning giggling from her nieces. She shook her head. "He's exaggerating. We had to attend a state dinner and I reminded him of his manners."

"How can you be mad at that, girls?" Jobal chuckled, motioning Padmé aside and putting a hot tray of Cambylictus roots on the island to cool. "He's rather good with kids, Mé dear. Remember that next time you two - "

Padmé blushed scarlet. "Mom!"

Sola shook her head in exasperation, glancing to her sheepish daughters - and brother-in-law - when they came back inside. She knelt to Pooja's and Ryoo's level, looking over them and sighing. "Guess I should be thankful there aren't more than two of you, huh?"

"We're not in trouble?" Pooja asked in a small voice.

"No. I was shocked, not angry. It came out wrong." Sola kissed their brows and stood. "Take a shower, both of you. And put the dresses in the hamper. I'll take care of them before we leave tonight."

Ryoo dipped her head in respect, then nudged her sister in the ribs. "Race you up the stairs."

"You're on."

"Girls!" Sola shouted after them, and glared at Anakin. "I blame you. They were angels before they met you."

"I'm just the fun uncle." Anakin - now stripped of his wet cloak, outertunic, and boots - waltzed over to Padmé and kissed her brow. "Hey Angel."

"You're a horrible influence," Padmé muttered, swatting his arm when he snatched a root from the tray and popped it in his mouth. "Those are for dinner!"

"But I'm hungry now!" Anakin whined.

"You're always hungry - you're a Skywalker."

"Save your appetite for dinner, Anakin." Jobal said. "I cooked Padmé's five-blossom bread. It should be done by the time Darred and Ruwea come home."

"You know, she tried to make that once. Nearly burned the apartment - "

"Ani, please shower."

Sola laughed. "No no, please do keep going."

"We had eat at Dex's Diner, the damage was so bad."

Padmé - putting her elbows on the counter and head in her hands - groaned loudly while her relatives laughed.

"It wasn't all bad. We did hang out in the shopping district while the kitchen was being repaired."

"You went shopping with Padmé? Are you crazy?" Sola asked.

She remembered that. It was near their second anniversary, and Anakin had taken her to Dex's Diner after they hunted for a new new ship. Obi-Wan had been at the diner, researching...well...them.

She shook her head when her husband went to shower, and ventured into the dining room to set the dinner table. Everything felt so….she couldn't put into words what her life had become.

Strange.

"Need some company?" Jobal asked, coming out with a salad and the bread.

Padmé glanced up and forced a smile. "Of course."

Jobal set down the items. "We were pretty scared when we heard what had happened in Theed, sweetheart."

"We have the Jedi to thank for keeping everyone safe."

"How is he doing, Padmé?"

Padmé didn't look her mother in the eye, twitching the tablecloth. "In regards to what, Mama?"

"Padmé. I am your mother. I know when something is upsetting you."

She sighed, pressing her hands into the table. "Master Kenobi."

"Anakin's master? The Great Negotiator? I have heard nothing but good things about him. He did a great thing, going undercover and foiling the plot to kill the Chancellor."

"Yes...and that's what is troubling me." She hesitated, remembering how Anakin had sobbed the night of the funeral, unable to be consoled. She remembered how Ahsoka had been quiet for so many hours. "The High Council did not tell Anakin of the plan...at the request of Master Kenobi. I'm sure he had his reasons but…"

Jobal set the silverware down and closed the distance between them, enfolding Padmé in a much-needed embrace. "I'm so sorry, dear. That's an awful burden to bear, for everyone involved."

"Anakin refuses to talk about it. He's so...angry. Upset. It scares me, Mama."

"Anakin scares you? Or what the Council has done?"

Padmé shrugged, unable to respond. She didn't like it when she didn't know the answer to something. She patted the arm that her mother had wrapped around her shoulder, and stepped neatly away. It was time to change the subject.

Jobal didn't think the same thing, catching hold of Padmé's wrist. "Honey. I am no Jedi but...healing takes time. Do not force it. Marriage isn't always smooth sailing. Part of being a spouse is standing by their side when the waters get rough."

"Yes but…" Padmé stared at the tablecloth, feeling her eyes begin to water. "When do you know you're not drowning while trying to keep them afloat?"

"Then you have to make the decision of the relationship is truly worth it. Padmé," Jobal squeezed her shoulder. "Don't let a marriage fall apart because of miscommunication and hardship. You and Anakin love each other so fiercely. You can make it work."

Padmé nodded, not saying anything when her mother left the dining room.

* * *

_Mé: Are you okay? You haven't answered any of my messages_

* * *

_Mé: Satine did something happened?_

* * *

_Anakin: can you stop worrying my wife Satine?_

_Anakin: actually, we're both worried. Why are you in the hospital?_

* * *

_Ben: I'm leaving for Sundari now. I'll be there by mid-evening _

_Tina: I'll still be in hospital - 4th floor, Room 333_

_Ben: okay. I love you my dear_

_Tina: [is typing]_

_Tina: I'm so sorry Obi-Wan_

* * *

_Author's note: now how many were expecting that to happen? _

_I know some people will say I'm being unfair to Yoda. Well, I have said it before and I'll say it again: I don't like Yoda. Never have. I find him annoying and probably a large part of the reason the Jedi failed._

_If I insulted you - well, my writing is a work of fiction ¯\\_(__ツ__)_/¯_

_There's only a few more chapters until the end of this fic (and of course there will be a sequel. A chunk of it is already written)_

_ii Digestive Reader ii_


	26. Don't Be Sorry

Chapter Twenty-Six: Don't Be Sorry

* * *

"I only ask for defense against Kyr'tsad!"

"Are you not listening to me?! My aunt is granting you defense!"

"Denying my province the ability to kill, much less wound, potential threats - "

Korkie rolled his eyes, not having the energy to argue with Governor Fett. He let himself slouch on the throne - it wasn't his anyways - waiting for the Governor to exhaust himself. It was rather amusing, how similar he was to his dead grandson Jango - and how the Republic's clones looked so much like him.

He studied the governor flushed face, tapping his fingers against the arm of the throne. How auntie did this every day was beyond him.

"...and to demand we must give these terrorists to the ruling body, or even to the Republic - "

"Governor!" Korkie barked, finally drawing himself back into the conversation. He had to admit, it was amusing to watch the aides jump at the ferocity in her voice, and the governor of Thrace swallow his words and sit down. "Did you not read the documents my aunt sent you?"

"Your Highness - "

"You are allowed to defend against Kyr'tsad. My aunt only asks you try not to wound them - no one wishes for your people to kill these terrorists, but we all know that your people are often over-excited when wielding weapons - "

"But demanding they pay fines - "

The door to the throne room whooshed open. Korkie glanced over, eyebrows raised in surprise. He ignored the pit in her stomach, and smiled softly. "Christo - what is it?"

"Governor Fett," Christo murmured while she made her way to the throne and up the steps. "Ariel Command has contacted the palace, Madame. ETA class Jedi shuttle 634 just docked at the Royal Hospital."

"Ah, Rusabaahya cuyir olar," Governor Fett murmured, rolling his dark eyes. "Ni cuyir tarba a Jetti seyi'r."

Korkie pressed hus lips together, itching to run to the hospital and punch the General in the face. How dare that idiot put his aunt through so much pain. Regardless of the Governor eavesdropping, he nodded. "Thanks Christo."

Christo raised her eyebrows, but nodded nonetheless and walked out of the throne room.

He stared after the handmaiden, wondering how in the universe he had gotten himself into this situation.

"Gar Kujyr?" Governor Fett asked.

He sat straighter, feeling sweat drip down his back, causing his tunic to cling to skin. "If your people kill Death Watch members - I wish for them to pay fines - not if they wield weapons, Governor. Death Watch has declared war against the state and the throne - of course I want them in my custody if possible. They need to be interrogated. But where, may I ask, did you presume I will hand these people over to the Republic?"

Governor Fett swallowed hard, and tried to straighten his short stature. "I just assumed with General - "

"General Kenobi may be my aunt's riddur, but I assure you, he does not have sway on this government. Your ignorance preludes your judgement once again, Governor Fett."

"Why - of course, Your Highness."

* * *

Obi-Wan felt his heart hammering while he signed into the hospital ward.

The receptionist was nice enough, even though a little leary. It must have been the weirdest situation she had ever dealt with - giving a Jedi General directions to the Duchess' room number.

In the _maternity ward._

He knew he looked barely twenty, with his short hair and one day shadow. Barely legal to do most things on most planets.

Everything was shaking. He felt so ill, especially with the antibiotics that the Nubian palace had shoved down him as a precaution and the fact he was still getting used to his own body.

_Room 333._

_Purple butterfly sticker outside the door._

The sticker signified to staff and patients that there had been a child, but it had been lost.

Obi-Wan thought it was a nice idea...if they weren't the ones -

It hurt too much to think about.

That's all he had thought about on the flight to Sundari.

He stopped in front of the door, feeling himself shake. He pulled a hand through his hair, then scowled. He felt like a padawan, stupid and reckless and carrying too much pain. _Gods...gods. Oh my God._

The purple butterfly sticker was the only thing in his vision. He wanted to rip it down.

Swallowing hard, Obi-Wan palmed open the door. The smell of disenfectant filled his nose. He wanted to run, though he forced himself to step in and give a small smile.

Satine was reading from her datapad, propped by pillows. She looked ghastly pale, with dark circles under her eyes. Too many cords and wires snaked out from under her blankets.

It took a second for her to glance over, but when she did…

An attempt at a smile crossed her face, though it immediately began to crumble. He wondered if she had even let herself cry since it had started.

Obi-Wan shed his cloak, crossing the room in a few short steps and sitting down on the bed. The sheets crinkled. He wrapped his arms around her, pressing a fierce kiss to her chapped lips. Their teeth clacked painfully together.

"I'm sorry - I'm so sorry Ben, I - "

"Don't be sorry." Obi-Wan cupped her face, aware tears were falling down his cheeks. He wiped at her eyes gently. "Don't be sorry. Don't blame your - "

"I didn't want her - Obi, I didn't want our baby." Satine was sobbing now, leaning into him and twisting her fingers into his tunic. "I - I didn't want her, I wanted you."

Obi-Wan propped his chin on her hair, rubbing her back while she shook. He could feel how tense she was from pain.

"I - I wanted to tell everyone about you being alive - "

"Forget about my mission - I shouldn't have gone. I know that now."

Satine buried her nose into his neck, grimacing when he pulled her closer. She was still shaking, though the sobbing was beginning to quiet. "I - I am so sorry I lost our baby. I'm so sorry."

Obi-Wan held her even more closely, feeling a sob escape him.

* * *

"Mace decided that once we return from Coruscant we can discuss the health insurance."

Padmé sighed in relief, glancing at him from where she lay on the floor. She laughed while he laid down next to her, bumping his brow against her. "Who knew the Hero With No Fear was so cuddly?"

Anakin chuckled, stretching out his long body. He studied her feet propped on the couch of the Lake House, then shook his head. "Thank goodness your parents own this and not us - it would cost a fortune to maintain."

"True...true."

They had decided on no staff during their two week stay here - Padmé would have to leave for Coruscant by then, leaving Anakin to finish the last week of his leave there.

It was peaceful, being able to spend every morning lounging in bed and recovering from the past few months.

Life had hit them all hard lately.

Sighing, Padmé smiled half-heartedly when he grasped her hand.

"Obi-Wan messaged me."

She knew those two weren't talking, but this situation ignored personal issues.

"...He messaged me too." Padmé couldn't help shedding a few tears. "Oh, poor Satine. I can't even imagine what it's like, losing a child - especially in a place like _Sundari."_

Anakin held his tongue about Obi-Wan, but it was rather easy to do so. Sundari wasn't that kind to unwed, pregnant women - regardless of their social status. Probably _because _of their social status. There was so much shame in a miscarriage there that he was shocked they even learned about it.

He squeezed his wife's hand tightly. With her health, he didn't even know what would happen if they had children. Part of him didn't even want to have children, despite Padmé's desires.

"...we should send them something, Ani. Like, Satine's favorite tea and maybe some Holomovies."

* * *

"Aayla! Aayla, please for the love of the Force will you listen to me?!"

"You can have fun sleeping alone - I'm sure you'll enjoy that!"

Kit Fisto groaned, well aware that they were arguing in the middle of one of the most populated hallways in the Temple. _I didn't have any of this trouble before I apprenticed Bant - I didn't even know anyone besides my family!_

He could see Master Yoda on his hover chair, pausing in conversation with Madame Nu.

Two of the worst gossips witnessing this.

_Great._

_Even Quinlan has some tact._

Aayla was climbing the main stairs, and he followed her quickly. She had been fuming ever since the Rako Hardeen mess broke - but she was concerned more for Anakin and Bant and Garen and Master Tholme and Dex and Ferris than she was for Obi-Wan.

"Aayla please." Kit grasped her wrist gently, the action hidden under the sleeves of their cloaks. He softened his voice while she yanked her wrist from him and raised her pencil-inked eyebrows, leaning against the bannister.

_Oh... we're doing this here._

Aayla quirked an eyebrow, her lekku twitching in its harness. She could sense what he was thinking, even if she didn't know exactly. Besides - even a human could have read the embarrassment on his face.

Kit sighed, wondering what to say and eventually sighing. "I...I voted we do the Hardeen plot - "

"You're an idiot," Aayla scoffed.

"...I didn't vote for Obi-Wan. I didn't vote we do anyone in main, active duty. I voted we use...we use a clone."

"Kit!" Aayla screamed in frustration - then stomped on his foot and stalked up the stairs.

Kit groaned, grimacing while he heard people chuckling at the scene. Shaking his head, he limped up the stairs and spotted her stalking towards a lift.

"We're not breaking up," Aayla muttered while he catiously approached her waiting for a lift. "I'm just pissed."

"I gathered - but I would like to have my bedmate back at least."

Aayla sighed, shrugging him away when he attempted to touch her. She looked at him a bit forlornly, putting a hand on the lift opening so it wouldn't close. "Kit...just...give me some time. I need to be alone, to meditate in my own chambers."

Kit opened his mouth, then shut it and nodded. He had to smile a bit when she leaned forward and kissed his cheek, then stepped into the elevator.

* * *

Obi-Wan left the room early morning, just to go on a short walk. He had swung by the Palace to pick up things for both of them - flimsi and a few Holomovies for Satine, along with her hair products and a change of clothes. There wasn't much for him in her chambers - just a few pairs of trousers and some long sleeves. Still, it was better than wearing Jedi robes in a Sundari hospital.

Satine was supposed to leave the hospital the day after he arrived - though unfortunately, a mild infection had set in quickly, forcing her to stay in the hospital longer than she liked.

"Korkie can have more practice ruling," Obi-Wan had tried to soothe, only to dodge a pillow that she threw at him.

That had been yesterday. The smell and the general happiness of the ward made his teeth ache. He couldn't sleep much, unlike Satine. The miscarriage had wiped her out, physically and emotionally. She slept often, though it was unrestful.

He found himself near the gift shop - each floor had one. He hadn't stopped in one, especially not this one. There were too many baby onesies and cut plaques and -

And yet he still wandered in. Apparently he liked to hurt himself.

There were food and mugs too - things one couldn't buy in the cafeteria. There was even a bag of that fancy chocolate Ahsoka liked, and he picked it up despite the price.

It was quiet, no one in there besides himself and a young, barely adult human female cashier.

It was impossible to avoid all the small blankets and little supplies for a baby, though he was amused that generic medication for flight sickness and sunscreen and things like that were right next to it. It was almost a calming place, with no music and soft colors.

He wondered if all the gift shops were like this.

She studied him for a moment while he browsed the shelves, then widened her eyes.

"You're - "

"A little preoccupied - tell me, are these handmade?"

The cashier - Cleo, by her name tag - blinked in surprise and glanced at what he was gesturing too. Medium sized bantha plushes near the cash register, in several different colors. There was a small bin of them on the floor, sandwiched between several bins of different animals throughout the Galaxy.

Cleo nodded, leaning against the counter that seperated them. "Yep. We have someone from Tattoine that ships them every few months. They go _really _fast. I just put those out this morning."

Obi-Wan put the chocolate on the counter, nodding when she gestured to ring it up. He took one of the banthas - a blue one with pink horns - and turned it around in his hands. The tag was small, though he nearly dropped it upon reading the name of the creator.

_Beru Whitesun-Lars. Creator of these plushes. All made from genuine Bantha hair. Dyed with love._

"This is actual Bantha fur."

"You've been to Tattoine?"

"I read the tag." Obi-Wan chuckled at her sheepish laugh, standing with only mild difficulty. "I'll take this too."

"Sure." Cleo was quiet for a moment while she rang it up, then glanced at him. "Want it gift wrapped?"

"Uh - sure. Yes, that would be great, thank you."

Cleo nodded, handing him the bag holding the chocolate and wrapping the Bantha plush on a separate counter away from him. She did it quickly and skillfully, and handed it back to him with a smile.

"Thank you." He dug out the needed credits and blinked when she shook her head.

"I'll pay for it - it's the least I can do, after you have risked your life so many times General Kenobi."

Obi-Wan blinked, unsure of what to say.

Cleo gave a small smile. "My sister is a pretty big fan of you - you and the Duchess. She was heart broken to learn that she was in the hospital, but really happy you're alive."

"Ohh...well, thank you. I'll - I'll give the Duchess your regards." Obi-Wan bowed his head at the young girl, smiling while he walked out the gift shop. It didn't take long to reach her room - mostly because he wanted to avoid the several people beginning to occupy the halls of the ward.

Satine was propped in bed, leafing through a mag. She still looked pale and ghostly, but not as bad as before. A puzzled frown crossed her features while he tossed the chocolate to the side with their belongings and set the gift bag on her lap.

"Open it," he murmured.

"You're a sap." Satine gave a hoarse laugh when he pressed a kiss to her temple, then set about undoing the wrapping paper. A small noise escaped her while she held the Bantha plush. She read the tag, eyes widening while she traced the features.

"Obi-Wan - "

Obi-Wan put an arm around her. "You deserve something cute and stupid."

"Besides you?" Satine laughed when he squeezed her closer, then held the Bantha plush close. "I like it. Thank you."

* * *

_Author's note: helllo and welcome! We're almost at the end of this depressing story. I promise all of you it's sequel will be more lively ;)_

_Now - who thinks Obi-Wan will stay or leave the Order now? Come on, don't be shy _

_ii Digestive Reader ii_


	27. Two Weeks Later

Two Weeks Later…

* * *

Obi-Wan glanced from his datapad to the caf table, where two sixteen-ounce water bottles had been placed. Frowning, his gaze flicked to Satine.

"What are those for?" he murmured, shifting while she sat and curled into his side, face tucked into his shoulder.

"Ultrasound tomorrow morning," Satine mumbled dejectedly. "Making sure I don't have an infection...that there aren't any remains left."

"Oh…" He grimaced, dropping the datapad beside him and wrapping an arm around her. Pressing a kiss to her hair, he murmured: "Do you want me there?"

Satine crawled into his lap, thank goodness not wincing as she did so. Nuzzling into his neck, she shrugged. "Mandalorians don't really follow their wives around the gynecologist."

"I'm not Mandalorian - and you're not my wife." Obi-Wan tried to smile at the huff, kissing between her eyebrows.

* * *

"Is the Order really that important to you?" Satine murmured while he packed.

Obi-Wan hadn't realized they were standing close together until he grasped her wrist, breathing heavily, feeling tears fall down his cheeks, watching her glance down and not attempt to move.

He loosened his grip, trying to ignore how much his hands were shaking. "The Order...I chose them over you - over our _family - _too many times. I'm not doing it again, not - "

"You always make promises you can't keep." Satine sniffed while rubbing at her nose. "You're a walking contradiction, Ben - saying one thing, doing - "

"Not now." Obi-Wan tested his luck, grasping her forearms gently, ducking to meet her gaze. "I will _not _walk away from you again, not willingly. That's one promise I can make to you."

"You _knew _\- _how?"_

"A...a vision. When...when the conception happened...a little girl - blue eyes, blonde hair. Wearing Kryze colors. Sassing up a storm."

She let out a rough laugh, rubbing at her eyes. "That day on Mandalore...you described a little girl like that...you were talking about our daughter?"

Obi-Wan nodded. "The only thing that kept me sane during the Hardeen stint was the fact that you were safe and alive…I never knew she was...dying...I'm nearly glad I didn't know. It would have hurt too much."

"I...Obi…"

"I knew you'd be angry...I just...it was like my heart had been ripped out when I found out."

"Our daughter... what's she like?"

"Beautiful," he confirmed, squeezing her arms gently. "I love you. Don't ever forget that."

Satine just stood there, staring at the floor before glancing upwards, letting out a shaky breath. With a sigh he squeezed her hand, and went back to finish packing. The silence filled the room, sick and heavy.

Quietly, he moved a few piles of belongings out of the duffel bag -

and glanced over when she stood by his side and extracted an item. It took a moment for him to focus on what it was - the little Bantha plush he had bought on in the hospital gift shop all those days ago. He had forgotten to take it out when they came home.

She studied it for a long time, then sat with it in her lap. Her fingers traced the eyes, the horns, the careful stitching.

"So that's where it went," Obi-Wan whispered while he abandoned his task and sat beside her.

"I still love it - and you."

He covered her wrist. "What do you want me to do?"

"I - I want you to decide." Satine swallowed hard, sounding like she was about to cry again. She held the bantha plush close for a moment. "I - I don't want to be second to the Order - but - but if that's the only way we can stay together then - then I can learn to live - "

"We tried that once," he said wryly. "Didn't quite work out."

"Does that mean you'll stay? For good?"

"I want to be here - marry you...raise a family."

Satine tried to smile. They hadn't even attempted sex, not even close. At the moment they were both too afraid.

Obi-Wan sighed, tracing shapes on her wrist. "I - I idealized your pregnancy in my mind, my dear. I...it was strange but...We're in the middle of a galactic war Tina and it...it was a coping mechanism, being able to imagine this life without - I will separate myself as much as I can - be based here - as - as a watchman, a dignitary - me leaving completely would upset the balance of the war, turn it to the Separatist favor."

"I know...keep a foot in the door - my father used to say that."

"He would have been so proud of you."

Satine stared at the bantha again, then snorted. "_God, _our relationship is fucked up."

"At least we're not Anakin and Padmé."

"Ah yes - nineteen and twenty-four upon _marrying._ In-laws, life-threatening disease, Anakin always seeking the Chancellor's advice, a padawan you technically forced on him - fabulous marriage. They're horrible at communicating...it's ruining them."

"No…but we're talking now, aren't we?"

Satine leaned into him, sighing heavily. "Anakin learned it from somewhere...you did too."

"Blaming Qui-Gon again?"

"Pointing out his legacy - looking at you to improve." She kissed his shoulder. "I love you?"

Obi-Wan wrapped an arm around her and pulled her into his lap.

* * *

Grandmaster Yoda and the Jedi High Council

Palace of the Jedi

Federal District, Temple Zone

Core World: Coruscant

Level: 5127

_Grandmaster Yoda and all those on the esteemed Jedi High Council_

_It is with a heavy heart I write this letter. What you are receiving is not the first draft, nor the most eloquent combination of words. Strange, you must think, considering it was this very council who dubbed me 'the Negotiator.' _

_Should this letter now be in your hands, you must have concluded through context - whether written or visual - what this is. I have decided, after much deliberation and thought, to resign not only from my position on the Jedi High Council, but the Jedi Order as a whole. _

_Rest assured, this decision is not rash. I have deliberated on numerous occasions over the years whether to make this choice, as I'm sure you know well enough. This war is only one of the many factors that has propelled me to make this decision._

_I apologize for such an inconvenience, truly I do. But I cannot reconcile our actions as a society with my own personal morals any longer. _

_I will allow myself two weeks to have my affairs in order before departing from Coruscant. I am quite sure you have guessed where I have chosen to reside now that my tenure from the Order is over._

_I do suggest that Anakin Skywalker (though perhaps this is my biased opinion) be allowed to command the Third Systems Army in my stead. Naturally, this means I believe he is ready to have my seat on the Council. He may be young, but he is willing and eager to please. _

_I am willing, as is Duchess Kryze, to allow myself to be a advocate for the Jedi Order throughout the Mandalorian system and to attempt to keep relations between our two societies relatively stable as they are now. The Republic, more so the Chancellor, has no place in negotiating our respective relations._

_May the Force be with you masters_

_-Obi-Wan Kenobi of Stew-Jon_

* * *

_Author's note: AND we end this story on the new year! Whoo! _

_Do not worry - I will do a sequel. It's in the works. But for now, enjoy this and it's companion stories while you wait ;)_

_ii Digestive Reader ii_


End file.
